Dance of Kings
by Iesh
Summary: AU. A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year in 1943 and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun... (NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash, TMR/HP)
1. Prologue

**Dance of Kings  
****by Iesh**

* * *

**Summary:** A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun...

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Muggleborn!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations,

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

* * *

"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- Dreams/written words…

* * *

**Prologue**

He hummed as the magic caressed his old wizened skin. His own magic yearned to reach out, to join the powerful aura but he steadily kept it under his skin. If he dared interfere with it during the ritual, the consequences would be disastrous. He had rarely felt such a magic- so calming, soothing yet at the same time intriguing. Many would have said it was the magic of the pure but they couldn't be more wrong. Had he been an enemy, the magic would have been snarling at him, rousing him for a confrontation.

It was light magic.

The true light magic. Not the drivel spouted by the anti-Dark factions. Leaning against the wall, he looked at the boy sitting in the centre. The runes self-drawn on his bare skin glistened with blood. A small pool of the red had amassed by his feet. Beads of perspiration tumbled down his forehead. One may wonder how someone so young, so innocent-looking could be capable of such a feat. But he knew better. He had seen the depth in those green eyes.

Two years had passed since he had first met him. One might think that meeting this out of ordinary child would have been under exceptional, even explosive situations. But it was a simple Saturday morning when there was a knock at his door. A young boy, barely out of his twelfth year, stood in front of him. And like that, he asked for an apprenticeship. Normally, his wife and he would have refused such an ordinary request, especially from what seemed to be an unlearned young one. They asked about him, his parents and his home. The answers given were clear and simple, but filled with lies. Living for many years had allowed them to decipher the many intricacies of the human kind. But where his truths started and where they ended, they never knew. How he managed to get pass the heavy wards surrounding their house, they never knew too.

Yet out of all his lies and half truths, one feature shone with sincerity. Those green eyes. Eyes of a weathered soul in such a young body. They spoke of loss, despair and maybe even fear. He knew that his wife was taken in by them. At her request, he tested the boy for his magical capabilities. And that in itself was a mystery. In certain fields, he was highly advanced. And yet in others, he was astoundingly behind. Levels truly bizarre for such a wild wizard.

It had been years since they had been intrigued by someone, especially such a young one. They took him as an apprentice. He worked well on his own. He only consulted them for the happenings, the way of life in the wizard world. For his studies, they just had to guide him through the laws of the wizard magic. He spent most of his time inside the library. The little time spent together was filled with enthusiasm, child-like laughs and smiles. Not entirely fake but definitely a cover to hide the secrets bottled inside him. Many times he tried to unravel one of those secrets but each time, he found himself with more questions and truths laced in lies. Sometimes, he wondered if he should even dare to pry those secrets. For this was surely no ordinary child.

On some rare occasions, he would receive an owl to which he would reply immediately. They never pried and at the same time, he never volunteered any information. No names were ever uttered, except his. No locations, except vague ones. He had blamed the lack of information on his parents' deaths. Then last month, he asked about one friend.

He spoke of a friend he had met before and who was apparently a wizard. He asked about a ritual to find someone by their magic. It was one which asked for a lot of concentration and magic control indeed. And the wizard had to be intimately aware of the aura of the person he was seeking, which he doubted would be the case for a childhood friend. But the boy remained adamant.

He was brought out of his musings by the rustling sound of a stone moving against parchment. He looked at the paper in front of the boy. A map in fact, detailing the different parts of Britain. He saw the blood-soaked stone nestled between the forests in Scotland. A name was hidden among those lines and curves.

He sighed as the magic withdrew from around him. His skin prickled at the lack of magic, already seeking more. He smiled at the boy who was looking at the map with his green eyes. A small smile tugged at the end of his lips.

"Looks like your friend is in Hogwarts."

"Yes."

"You never told me his name."

"Tom, Tom Marvolo Riddle."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. This is my first fanfic, an idea I've been playing with for over a year. Please review or leave a comment to tell me what you think. Cheers!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Dance of Kings  
****By Iesh**

* * *

**Summary:** A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun.

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- dreams/written words…

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"This year, we have Harry Evans who will be joining us in the Fifth year," Headmaster Dippet said after the last First Year to be sorted sat at the Ravenclaw table, "For the past years, he has been apprenticing under Master Alchemist Flamel and now seeks to join us. Let's welcome Mr. Evans for his sorting."

Harry smiled at Professor Dumbledore as he sat on the wooden stool. Instead of sliding till the eyes as it did for the First years, the hat remained on top of his head, giving him full view of the hall in front of him.

"Hmm, what do we have here? Not a First Year, huh. Don't worry. Your secrets will be safe with me but I see that you already knew that or else, you wouldn't have been here. Let's see. Hufflepuff? No, definitely no. You're loyal only to those who have proven themselves to you. And even then, not many would call that 'loyalty'. That won't do. You do have a considerable amount of knowledge, much more than your peers for sure but you don't quest for knowledge for the sake of knowledge, do you? Not Ravenclaw, then. Oh, definitely Gryffindor material. Brash, reckless. With a bravery which many would consider bordering on stupidity."

'It's called bravery for a reason,' Harry scoffed while the hat chuckled out loud. He saw many students throughout the Hall looking at him weirdly while Professor Dumbledore smiled at him, as if it was a normal occurrence.

"And such a mouth too. Godric would have been proud of you. Now, let's see Slytherin… Hmm, Strange as it sounds, you have a cunningness inside you, which you wisely hide behind your Gryffindor tendencies. Vicious, devious and particularly ruthlesss, especially to your enemies. You seem to be Godric's and Salazar's perfect lovechild."

At this point, Harry laughed out, the sound resonating throughout the silent Hall.

"So what are you truly, Mr. Evans. A true lion in snake's skin or a true snake in lion's fur…" the Sorting Hat continued while Harry hummed amusedly.

'Just any one of them where I can remain low profile for my task to be done,' he thought.

Here the hat laughed out, almost on the point of falling off his head.

"Mr. Evans, I highly doubt that you will remain out of the student population's spotlight. You're not one of those who can hide in the shadows."

"Of course, I can," Harry pouted while the hat shook in silent laughter.

"We'll see. Now let's see here… We still need to find you a house. Ah, you came here looking for someone. I distinctly remember him. Such an interesting child he was. Already reigning in the Slytherin house, I suppose."

"Is he now?" Harry asked, filing the information for later use. It sure sounded interesting.

"Yes. If you end up in Slytherin, he will try to recruit you to his cause. Yes, he definitely will, even though he doesn't know about your secrets. And you're not of those to bend the knee, are you? Yes, I think in the end, you two will end up as the strongest of allies or the bitterest of enemies, if you don't end up killing each other that is. Yes, I see it. But no matter what, you will annihilate the whole Slytherin house between the two of you. No, that won't work. There's only one House which will help to even the field and lessen the casualties…. One which will further the Chaos for your Order. Better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

The table on the far left erupted in cheers. Harry smiled as he handed the Sorting Hat to Professor Dumbledore. He joined the Gryffindors who were waving him over to an empty seat. They looked around the same age group as him.

At this point the headmaster rose to his feet. Now that he was at the table, Harry realised how old and frail the headmaster looked.

"Now that the sorting is done, I won't be letting your stomach empty for long. Let the feast begin."

Dishes of every imaginable variety appeared on the tables, which groaned under the weight of the food. Harry left a soft curse at the impressive piece of magic.

"Impressive, isn't it?" the boy in front of him said.

"Yes."

"Charlus Potter," the boy said. Harry saw a silver Prefect badge pinned on his chest. He grinned at him as he adjusted the round glasses perched on his nose.

"Harry Evans. Nice to meet you."

"Me too. Here we have Maya Jain and that's Theodore Longbottom"

Maya was a rather pretty girl with golden brown skin and long black braided hair. She smiled warmly at Harry as he nodded at her. Theodore was a tall lanky boy shoulder-long brown hair. He looked up from the book he was reading and smiled back at Harry.

"So how come that you're joining us so late?" Charlus asked.

"Well, I apprenticed under Master Flamel. It went very well and I did learn a lot. But they had to take a leave and I just didn't want to impose myself on their vacation so I came here. Plus, it's nice to get a school experience, especially one at Hogwarts which is one of the best in the world as they say."

"Well, that's true."

"And since I'll be sitting for my OWLS at the end of the year, I might as well sit it here."

"So you'll be staying here just for this year, waiting for Master Flamel to return or will be completing our studies here till the Seventh Year," Maya asked.

"Well, I haven't thought about it as such. I guess, it depends. We'll see how it goes."

"Hope that you get to stay here," Theodore said, "Professor Dumbledore looked really pleased with your Sorting. By the way, why did the Hat laugh during the Sorting?"

"Well, he said that my bravery was bordering on point of stupidity," Harry scoffed.

The three of them laughed good-naturedly.

They busied themselves in their food. Harry hadn't eaten since breakfast and he was definitely very hungry. He carved a piece from the roasted chicken in front of him. He moaned as he took in the first bite. He rarely had the pleasure of having such a delicious dinner. Not that the Flamels starved him. But they rarely stressed themselves with the mundane task of extravagant cooking- whether it was for breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Sitting at the table, he gazed around the Hall. It sure was splendid. The walls hummed with magic. It was soothing and pleasant, not unlike the embrace of a mother. He guessed that the theories of Hogwarts being sentient weren't as fabricated as he had thought. The enchanted ceiling was a wonder in itself. The dark night could be seen with the stars twinkling merrily over them.

Harry looked over the table he was sitting at. The Gryffindors were a loud bunch. Their conversation carried over the whole Hall. Some were joking and laughing out loud. Some girls were grouped together, apparently gossiping about Merlin-knows-what. The camaraderie in the House was undeniable, but then the same could be said about the other Houses too.

The Hufflepuff were at the next table, gathered together like a herd of badgers indeed. Soft and warm in their demeanor. Next were the Ravenclaws. Even from far, he could see that they indeed had the quest for knowledge for the sake of knowledge true. Some had their heads buried in the books with their forks hanging in one hand in front of them. Other had their clothes wrongly placed or some smudged ink on their faces or hands. He definitely wouldn't have fitted among them, like the Hat had said.

At the other end were the Slytherins. Unlike the loud and boisterous Gryffindors, they sat calm and demurred. But he knew enough to see that underneath the poise was a readiness to attack at a minute notice. Paranoid bunch. They did take the self-preservation bit too seriously. All of them said rigid and cool, except for the one in the middle. He looked utterly relaxed, making small talks with those around him with a charming smile.

"Who's the one sitting there in the middle?" Harry asked Charlus in what he hoped to be a mere curious tone.

Charlus paled as he saw who he was asking about. "That's Riddle. Fifth Year Slytherin Prefect. D-Do you know him?"

"No," Harry shrugged, "For a moment he looked like one of my childhood friends, James Smith. But I guess, I must have seen wrong."

Charlus nodded, going back to his shepherd pie. Harry grinned as he placed a piece of the treacle tart on his plate. Years of search, preparations and manipulations and here he was, a mere distance away from him.

'And the best part is that he has no idea I'm here,' he thought, biting in the particularly delicious dessert. After Harry had taken the last bite of the treacle tart, the food disappeared from the tables.

"Now that you are all well fed and drunk, time for some minor announcements. First, let's welcome Mr. Filius Flitwick who will be apprenticing under our own Charms Professor Klein."

Harry along with everyone clapped politely. Flitwick, a short man (probably half human with some goblin or dwarf blood), smiled jovially and bowed from his seat.

"And as each year, Ogg would like to remind you that magic is prohibited in the corridors as well as a list of other activities which I am sure you will check with him in the near future. Now, let's head to our dormitories."

Harry followed Charlus as they rounded the first years. He met the other Fifth Year Prefect, a girl named Minerva McGonagall. She seemed pleasant enough, but rather on the stiff side, with tight bun on her head and a severe glare aimed at the first years who were breaking the line.

"Minerva McGonagall."

"Harry Evans. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Welcome to Gryffindor House."

They made small talk as they guided the First Years. It turned out that she had taken the same electives as himself - Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Her older brother was in Gryffindor too, in Seventh Year and was the Quidditch Captain. She definitely held him in high regards, judging by the proud gleam in her eyes as she spoke of him.

The Gryffindor dormitories were in the seventh floor, in one of the towers. By the time they arrived, Harry, like the rest of the students, was dead on his feet. He watched from the corner as the Prefects welcomed and instructed the First Years. Then, he followed Charlus to the Fifth Year dormitory. He met the other two boys in their year. Both Chad Williams and Jean Delacroix appeared to be pleasant fellows. They exchanged some polite pleasantries as they changed in their pyjamas. By strike of nine, all them of them were soundly asleep in their respective bed. 

* * *

The next day, he found that keeping a low profile was a harder task than he had anticipated. Sure, he knew that he would have to dumb down his skills and knowledge but actually doing it was an all-out different thing.

Admittedly, appearing average turned easier in the worst class he had ever attended- History of Magic. It was hardly a subject that appealed to him. It was dry with complete lack of any practical and he had no interest whatsoever in what Wendolin The Weird did to the muggles or how Gregarious The Giant slaughtered an army of goblins. He had thought that being taught by a ghost would make it better but it actually made it worst. Professor Binns who died ironically ignorant of his own death, was equally ignorant of the class in front of him. He droned on and on about goblin rebellions. He tried to remain awake for the first fifteen minutes but finally, he gave in and started sleeping like the rest of the class. Only Minerva braved the stupor of the professor.

"What the hell was that?" Harry groaned as he came of the class. "I think part of my brain actually died."

"That was Professor Binns. Ghost extraordinaire," Charlus replied as he yawned.

Transfiguration was interesting, despite not being one of his best subjects. It was taught by Professor Dumbledore, their Head of House. He started the class, lecturing them about the upcoming OWLS and the importance of consistent hard work and revisions.

"Now, class, remember the wand movements. If you have successfully mastered the inanimate-to-inanimate and animate-to-animate transfigurations last year, the inanimate-to-animate part should be easier."

Harry frowned as he watched Riddle non-verbally transfigure his kitten in a soft pillow on his first try. He couldn't understand how a dark-inclined wizard could be gifted in such a Light-Oriented branch of magic. Could it be an exception to the rule? One mirroring his mysterious lack of control in Transfiguration and his instinctual skills in the Potions, one of the darker branches of magic, despite his Light orientation?

"Would you care to give it a go, Mr. Evans?" Dumbledore broke his musings.

"Animulus Fretzera," Harry said as he waved his wand in a careful circular movement.

He felt his magic enveloping the puppy in front of him but it fizzled out in the middle, merely reducing it to a cushion with floppy ears and hanging pink tongue.

"A very good first attempt. Keep trying, Mr. Evans, I am sure you will manage by the end of the class."

"But my wand movements and incantation were perfect," Harry grumbled as he jabbed the half-cushion. To his annoyance and utter mortification, it let out a loud bark.

"It happens," Professor Dumbledore smiled.

Harry nodded and kept on with the practice while Dumbledore continued his walk around the room, helping the other students. By the end of the class, he had managed to transfigure his puppy, which earned him ten points from the professor. It was only as he was walking to his next class that he realized that his Head of House completely ignored Riddle's feat of non-verbal Transfiguration and never awarded him any points.

Like Professor Dumbledore, the other professors started their classes, warning them about the upcoming OWLs. They went on and on about the importance of the examinations, how they defined their whole career life and the necessity of being truly prepared. Some of the students were starting to show nervous signs by the time Professor Merrythought finished her welcoming speech in Defense against Dark Arts classes. He heard that one of the Hufflepuff had even fainted in Herbology.

The classes in themselves were interesting and so were the teachers. The Arithmancy professor, Professor Chang was a strict Asian woman who was surprisingly swift for her old age. Professor Berry and Professor Vera taught Herbology and Ancient Runes respectively. They were rather good-natured with a ready smile on their faces, not unlike Professor Dumbledore. The Fifth Year Charms was being taught by the apprentice, Professor Flitwick. He was a true ball of energy, dawdling through the class with great enthusiasm every time one student mastered a spell.

Following his resolution to keep low profile, Harry had to feign ignorance several times in the classes. He had to stop from raising his hand each time the professors asked a question. The worst was actually reining back his magic each time he was asked to perform a spell so as to disclose his true level of magic. The teachers mistook his grimace and annoyed stance as his displeasure from not being able to perform adequately. They would smile at him encouragingly and urge him to practice with better concentration and intent.

But the worst was the Potions class. He had heard that Professor Slughorn was some sort of collectioner who kept students with helpful contacts and distinctive capabilities and talents close to him. He truly didn't want to be caught by the man's eye. So, he had to bit his lips as he dropped three neetle stings instead of two in his cauldron. He had to purposefully dice his flobberworms unevenly. He added two clockwise turns to each anticlockwise. By the time, he had finished, his potion was pale blue instead of the cobalt blue like it should have. He was mostly on the verge of tears. He felt like tearing his hair off. His hand itched to grab the proper ingredients and correct the disaster in front of him. But he stilled his hands and smiled as Professor Slughorn inspected his potion.

"Not bad. Just be more careful with the turns," the professor supplied before moving on to the next cauldron. Harry sighed. At least, he remained under the radar.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. I know it's starting rather slow but the action will pick up from Chapter 3 or 4. This first chapter was mostly for introductions. Let me know what you think- about the story or Harry or just in general. And thanks for the favs and follows too. Please review. :)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Dance of Kings  
****By Iesh**

* * *

**Summary:** AU. A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year in 1943 and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun.

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

* * *

"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- dreams/written words…

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Harry hummed as he flipped through the books meticulously arranged on the shelves. The silence in the library soothed his ears. After a whole week with the Gryffindors, he missed the peace and the calm. He had told them about researching for Potions and came to the library. Truthfully, he could have stayed in the common room but it had been years since he had been in the company of so much people. Sometimes, he craved for a few moments of solitude.

He smiled as he finally found a book which held his attention – The Unfinished Potions of Veracelsus. The latter was the most intriguing Potioneer the wizarding world had ever seen. Son of the Pioneer Paracelsus, he was scorned by many Potion Masters but equally revered by others for his unorthodox approach in potions making. With the book tucked between his arms, he took a seat at one of the tables in the complete back. He was so engrossed in the reading that he didn't realize that someone had taken the seat in front of him.

"Hello."

Harry jumped out of his seat at the unexpected sound. He looked at the student sitting in front of him. His eyes went over the green snake crest. Slytherin.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Cepheus Lestrange."

"No, it's okay. I was just lost in the book. Harry Evans."

"Nice to meet you. "

"Likewise. Did you need help with something?" Harry took in the high cheekbones, the elegant chestnut brown hair tumbling to his shoulders, the arrogant stance with which he held him. Not just a Slytherin but a Pureblood one.

"Not really. I heard a lot about the new exchange student. I have been meaning to talk to you since the start of the week but you were always with your friends. So how's Hogwarts been treating you?"

"It's been nice. The classes are interesting enough and the Gryffindors are a friendly bunch."

"I don't doubt it," Lestrange smiled as he leaned in his seat. "So you're working on your potions essay?"

Harry kept the smile on his face but he wondered why would a Pureblood Slytherin be talking to a muggleborn Gryffindor. "Yes, for the Amortenia potion. I heard that it came from the Amor potion, so I have been looking at its origin." Harry lied as his mind came with a proper reason, "I mean, this book is old but I can't find it in."

"Just because a book is old, it doesn't mean it's the right one," Lestrange replied pleasantly but Harry couldn't help but notice the faintest of sneering in the back of his voice, "Veracelsus was around the 17th century. Amor was created in the 15th century. Professor Slughorn mentioned it in the class."

"Oh, did he?" Harry laughed as he racked his fingers though his hair, "I admit that those potion fumes tend to make me kinda absent minded."

"It happens. You want some help with it?"

Once again, Harry noticed the mild mocking in the voice. He put it to the back of his mind as he grinned at the boy. "Sure."

They walked to the potions sections. They talked about the classes, Hogwarts in general and the Houses.

"Now, just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't mean that we can't be friends, Harry," Lestrange said as he slipped a book from the shelf and handed it to him, "Hope that you don't hold my House against me. I feel like we can be great friends together."

He came closer to Harry with his hand still on the book. There were barely a few inches between them.

Harry frowned as he took in the closeness. "I'll… I'll keep that in mind, I'm sure that we can be friends, if you want."

"I would like that." Lestrange smiled at him and Harry couldn't help but think of a snake barring his fangs.

"I got to go now."

Harry scowled as he checked out the book about Veracelsus and returned to the tower.

* * *

"What's the sword tournament?" Harry asked as he looked at the bulletin board in the common room. An official parchment was stuck in the middle with the tournament set on the second Saturday of the term.

"Ah, it's for the fencing club," Charlus grimaced.

"It sounds fun," Harry said, moving to his seat. "You are giving it a go?" Charlus definitely seemed to the type to have fencing as a hobby. He had the build and he came from a Pureblood line which prided itself of its Gryffindor loyalty.

"Not really. This tournament is just.. a farce. It's presided by the Slytherin prefects who allow their House to win through low handed cheatings. Barely any other House participates in. Believe me, you don't want to get involved with them."

"Oh okay." Harry frowned, "Anyway, I wanted to learn Quidditch, at least the basics. Should I attend the class with the First Years or should I get a different appointment with the Professor?"

"You don't know about Quidditch?" Charlus asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

"I know about it. I read a few articles but I've never played it before," Harry said, his eyes on the potions book he had checked out earlier.

"But, but… but you're fifteen. And you're a boy. And you're in Gryffindor for Merlin's sake. You should love Quidditch."

"Well, I wouldn't know, would I? I mean, I could barely asked Master Flamel to teach me Quidditch," Harry smiled as he tried to imaged Nicholas and Perennial on brooms.

"Well, forget about the Professor. We're going to teach you. You couldn't have asked for a better coach. Tomorrow before the tryouts. The field will be clear. We'll just head out earlier and have an impromptu flying lesson for you," Charlus laughed as he scooted next to Harry, his arms around his shoulder.

"Impromptu, Charlus?" Theodore said as he sat at the table, "You sure are using big words now."

"Shut up, Ted."

"It's Theodore, not Ted!"

* * *

So that's how Harry found himself roped in an 'impromptu' tryout flying lesson. Charlus, Theodore and he went to the Quidditch field half an hour before the tryout, accompanied by some of the older players.

Harry smiled as he took in the huge green field with three golden hoops on each side. The air was clear with few clouds in the sky. Truth to be told, he had always wanted to fly but he knew he would never have the occasion at the Flamels. But now that he was here and since Charlus was so willing…

"It's a great day for flying," his friend said, "Here I brought my older broom for you to try. It's not too bad, just one model earlier than mine. You should be ok."

'It's truly a nice broom,' Harry mused as he looked at the sleek dark brown handle. Following Charlus' instructions, he called the broom to him. He couldn't help but grin as the broom's magic thrummed under his hand, speaking with his own.

He wet his lips in anticipation as he watched Charlus rise and break in the air. He slung his legs around his own broom and took off. The grin grew larger as he found himself in the air. He had never felt so free. He closed his eyes and recalled the feeling of being so in sync with his magic, with nature. He felt the air currents around him. With a laugh, he climbed higher in the sky, ignoring his friends' calls and shouts. The wind rushed past his skin, singing to him. Looking back, he saw that he was almost in the clouds. Turning round, he dived headlong to the long. He laughed as the ground loomed closer and closer. The broom gave no sign to brake while he kept pushing it on. Metres above the ground, he braked in and steered his broom horizontal to the ground.

He turned to his friends and saw all of them looking at him, white faced, except for Charlus who looked like he was about to jump in joy.

"You did that on purpose?" Theodore said.

"Yeah," Harry laughed as he looked at the broom fondly. "I found out that I love flying."

"That was totally terrific," Charlus jumped to his side, "You told me you have never flown before!"

"I had never flown on a broom before. It just… felt right. It was…"

"Magical?" Charlus grinned.

"Yes," Harry grinned back.

"It sure was impressive" Harry turned and saw a tall burly boy with thick black curls, "Michael McGonagall, Quidditch Captain."

"Oh, thanks. Harry Evans."

"You're thinking of trying out? The seeker position should be right for you."

"What-"

"Yes, he is," Charlus exclaimed before dragging Harry to a corner. "We have five minutes to teach you about Quidditch. And believe me, it's more than enough. Michael is right. You're built for the position. Not too tall..."

"Hey, I'm 1m 75!" Harry supplied but Charlus just rolled his eyes.

"-slim, light. And you have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever on a broom, if I look at your twenty minutes of flying. Now for the rules…"

He then launched in some weird Quidditch lingo which Harry could barely tell the end from the start. He sure understood that there were four positions. And that his most important role was to catch the little golden ball.

"Golden ball. Gryfindor colour. Got it," Harry said as he nodded.

The tryouts were more or less simple. There was just the position of one beater and seeker open. The beater position went to a stocky fourth year who did show potential and most importantly, was humble enough to work in tandem with a third year girl, the other beater. Unlike some of the applicants.

For the seeker position, it was little bit trickier. He was against four other boys. They were pitted one against other with the bludgers given free reign over them.

"We have released ten snitches in the field. The one who catches the most, wins the spot."

"Bloody hell," Harry cussed as he barely rolled out of the way of another bludger. Three of the snitches were firmly held in his left pocket. He followed the last snitch. The two bludgers were dead set behind him. He was sure that it McGonagall's doing somehow. To see how he did against the two balls from hell. He had to turn from his path once or twice but his eyes never left the small snitch. He ducked close to his broom as the bludger flew above his head. With loud snarl, he reached out and grabbed the little snitch.

"That was very well done, Evans," Michael smirked as if he knew what Harry was thinking. Smug git. "Welcome to the team."

"That was absolutely amazing. Gryffindor will definitely bag the Quidditch cup this year," Charlus laughed as he hugged him.

Harry and his friends made their way to the kitchen, to celebrate Harry's post as the seeker and Charlus third year as Chaser.

"Wow, a tickling pear," Harry laughed, entering the kicthen, "Hogwarts sure is interesting."

"Hello, Harry."

Harry turned and saw Lestrange sitting by the table.

"Hello, Lestrange," Harry smiled back.

"It's Cepheus."

"I …"

"I insist."

"Okay… Cepheus."

"Perfect," Lestrange smiled in that same creepy way, "Now I'll leave you with your friends. I don't want to intrude. See you around, Harry."

The last word was practically purred out and he frowned as he watched the boy walk out of the kitchen. He followed his friends to the table. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even notice as that they were silent as he was.

"You shouldn't be close to Lestrange, Harry. He's... He's very dangerous," Theodore said slowly as he held the pumpkin juice in his hand.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. He knew that there was something off but to purposefully avoid him… It sounded a bit extreme.

"Well..." Theodore started but then, he remained quiet.

"He's bad news, Harry. Just believe us, please," Maya said. Harry nodded as he took some sandwiches from a pair of over-enthusiastic elves.

"I didn't know that Hogwarts had house elves," Harry supplied just to change the topic. The others looked relieved at the change of topic too.

"Yes, it's said to be the biggest group of house elves in Britain. They are all bonded to the castle."

Harry smiled as he thanked one of the elves who promptly fainted. His friends just laughed.

* * *

"Now, class, you will each find your individual worksheet on your table," Professor Chang said as she started the class, "If you have done the assignment last week, it should be easy. For any questions-"

A knock stopped her mid-sentence. Harry turned and saw a small first year standing at the door, clearly scared.

"Um, good morning, Professor. Headmaster Dippet is asking for Harry Evans."

The Gryffindor frowned, wondering why the headmaster would be asking for him. After Professor Chang's nod, he grabbed his bag and followed the small boy out of the room.

"The password's Integrity," the boy said before disappearing round the corridor. Harry made his way to the Headmaster's office. A small pessimist voice in his head wondered if the Headmaster hadn't found out about his secrets. Harry shook his head to get rid of the thought. It was impossible. But if…

"You asked for me, Headmaster?" Harry said, entering the office.

"Yes, Evans," the old man smiled, "We have a Mr. DeVoisin here who wanted to meet you."

It was only when he pointed to the man standing in the back, did Harry notice him. He couldn't have been older than twenty with pale blond hair and a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Aurelian?" the Gryffindor laughed, hugging the man, "What are you doing here? I thought you won't be able to visit for another year. How- No, when did you come to Britain?"

"Easy, Harry," Aurelian smiled. Turning to the Headmaster, he added, "Sorry, Headmaster, it had been years since I met Harry. Is there any place we could talk? Or maybe, Harry could give me a tour of this beautiful castle?"

"I see no harm. Just let one of the teachers know when you're done, Harry."

"Thank you, Sir," Harry grinned before grabbing the blond's hand and walking into the corridor.

"How are you, Harry?" Aurelian asked. Harry turned and saw that the question wasn't asked just out of politeness. He could see the worry in the blue eyes.

"I'm… well, I'm doing fine. Much better than I could hope for," he answered with a small smile.

"Glad to hear about that. So how are your classes?"

Harry growled at the smirk on his friend's face. "A nightmare, as you undoubtedly know. It's a torture when the professors ask a question and I have to keep my hand down or when I have to rein in my magic to not do the spell on the first go."

"I don't think you have to go to such extremes. You're Master Flamel's apprentice. You're bound to be talented. There's a reason I sent you to him, and not some other Sorceror."

"I know but excuse me if I don't want everyone to know that I'm beyond even NEWT levels. I know, I know I'm being silly but I don't want anyone to notice me, remember?"

"You're still fixed on that, huh?" Aurelian replied with an exasperated but fond sigh, "You do realize that being Master Flamel's apprentice yet average at magic is still going to get you noticed."

"Noticed, maybe. But also underestimated. I can't let him know about my magical level. It's too dangerous."

"Paranoid as ever, I see. So you met him?" The smile on both faces faded away.

The Gryffindor stayed quiet and refused to meet Aurelian's eyes. There was no question about which 'him' they were talking about.

"Harry. You can trust me. Do you want me to take another Unbreakable Vow?"

"No, it's not that. I'm sorry. It's just that... Yes, I saw him. He's here."

"You talked to him about-"

"No. You know very well that I can't. Merlin knows what would happen if I tell him everything. I can't take the risk. Too much's at stake."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Truthfully, I don't know. I was so stressed about finding him and then coming here that I didn't plan what to do next. But now that I'm here, I don't know. Sometimes, I feel like destroying him. His name, his fame, his magic, everything he holds dear. And sometimes, I wonder if I should help him, prepare him for what's going to happen."

Aurelian sighed. "Harry, from what you have told me, he's not the type you can trust. You yourself told me what he did. You have paid your dues. You don't have to help him!"

"I just… I feel so lost. But what else could I do?"

"Come with me. Leave everything as it is. Come to France and start a new life. I'll help you. It's the least I could do for you."

Harry looked away, not being able to face the care and affection in the French's face. It was so tempting to say yes and leave. He was almost tired and he yearned for some respite.

"You know I won't," His voice came in a whisper. Maybe, he knew that if he spoke any louder, his voice would break, confessing about his emotions.

Aurelian merely hugged him and kissed him on the top of his head. "It's okay, I understand. So how's Hogwarts? I heard that it's great but I doubt that it's better than our Beauxbatons."

Harry chuckled as he followed the blond out of the castle. He shrieked, in a happy but very manly manner when Aurelian told him that he had asked his girlfriend in marriage. They made small talks, catching up with each other's life. It was with a sad smile that he bade Aurelian goodbye after an hour. When he turned and looked at the looming castle, he wondered if he had made the right decision.

* * *

**A/N: Hello. Well, that was the second chapter. The plot properly starts now, bringing along lots of questions. Hope that you guys liked it. The response I got from the 'Prologue' and 'Chapter 1' was really cool. A huge 'Thank you' to everyone who reviewed, favourited and/or followed. It means a lot to me.**

**I know that there have been some questions about how Harry is Flamel's apprentice but still, he wanted to keep low profile. I definitely understand the confusion. I tried to address the issue in this chapter. I just hope that I didn't make it worse… In others news, I have discovered the joys of HP Fanfiction Forum. Yay!**

**Please review and let me know what you think of the story. Whether it's about Harry, other characters, the plot or about the writing. Cheers!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Dance of Kings  
****By Iesh**

* * *

**Summary:** AU. A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year in 1943 and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun.

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

* * *

"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- dreams/written words…

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Harry dove in an alcove as he heard voices ahead. Darkness pressed against him while he stilled his breath and waited. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two pearly white figures disappearing in the next corridors- ghosts making their nocturnal rounds. Thanking his luck for the narrow escape, he pushed open the door and entered the room.

Of all the places in Hogwarts, Harry thought that the Library was the most interesting. Its reputation preceded the school in itself as a real trove of knowledge. Now, standing in between the shelves in the pitch dark night, he wondered if at the moment, it didn't reflect the true danger and horror hiding in knowledge. His steps resounded in the quiet room as he made his way to the restricted area. Going past the rope segregating the two sections, he sincerely hoped that no wards had been placed in for unauthorized intruders.

He ran his fingers along the spine of the books. They ranged from the most common subjects liked Advanced Charms to the most forbidden ones like Dark Arts. He stopped at one title whose fading golden lettering grabbed his attention- A Study of the Unforgivable. Harry stared around him, peering in the shadows for any hidden persons. He found nothing yet his heart beat faster as he took out the book and opened it.

_Many opinions have been heard about the three Unforgivables. Each one remains a true horror on its own - losing your life, losing your individuality or losing your sanity. And of these three, the Cruciatus Curse is the oldest and most studied yet no cure or proper defence has ever been found. It is known as one of the most intriguing curses which go beyond the strict arithmetic matrix of curses. Its results, while at first view same in each victim, differs in composition and matrix._

Harry skimmed past the rest of the introduction as they spoke of the information he had already gathered in his intensive research. He flipped through the rest of the book and stopped at a page.

_Many attempts have been made to reproduce the Cruciatus in potion form- a poison which never kills but tortures to the brink of sanity. Many poison have been inspired from the Unforgivable, most notorious amongst is the Icy Death of Morgana, one which kills its victim after one minute of agony._

_Helbert Highbridge was probably the one who came the closest to rendering the Curse in potion. He managed to replicate it while keeping its matrix and composition completely loyal to the Unforgivable. However, one of the intricacies of the potion made the duration of the pain unstable. It is known to range from one minute to full three hours for the same dosage._

Harry grinned as he walked to one of the corners with the book. He couldn't take the book with him. If ever someone found this book with him, it would lead to unwanted questions. He carefully took out a slim diary from his pocket. Blank pages stared at him as he flipped through the pages.

"Fate," he whispered.

Ink filled the pages, curling into words and figures. But they were no mere words; they were torture spells and curses, many long lost to wizard's knowledge. Balancing the diary in his lap, he started making notes about Helbert Highbridge's potion. 

* * *

His muscles ached in pain as Harry dismounted from his broom. The practice had ended half an hour earlier but he had stayed behind to master some of the moves Michael had given. Following Charlus' and Michael's instructions, he had a better understanding of the rules and culture of Quidditch. Both had thrown a fit when he confessed that it looked that mere flying around. Now, his muscles were more than enough proof that it was more than that.

"I certainly didn't expect to see you here, Harry."

Harry turned and saw Cepheus approaching him from the ground.

"Yes, practice just ended. I didn't mean to disturb you here, Lest- I mean, Cepheus."

"It's for the best," Lestrange smiled, "I have to say that you look good in Quidditch gears."

"Uh, thanks," Harry said as he took in how Cepheus came closer, much closer than was comfortable.

He tried to take a step back but Lestrange grabbed him hand, stopping from moving much.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't think I have been clear enough," Lestrange smirked as he came so close that their chests were on the point of touching. "Did I ever say that you were very pretty, Harry?" He ran his hands through his red hair.

"Back off, Lestrange," Harry broke free from his grasp and took a few steps back.

"Oh my, you do a backbone, after all. Well, you are Gryffindor, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised."

"What do you want?" He could his magic thrashing rousing underneath his skin. He took a deep breath, trying his best to calm himself.

"You mean, your friends haven't told you yet," Lestrange came closer and ran a finger along his cheek, "Now isn't that funny? Maybe you should ask them? It's much more fun when my pets try to fight. It's… enticing."

Harry dove his hand in his pocket for his wand, a spell almost on his lips when Lestrange let him go and walked away.

"We'll be seeing each other for sure, pet. Just keep your eyes open." Lestrange said as he smiled. And it wasn't the fake warm ones he was used to. His blue eyes hardened in coldness and his face changed in a vicious grimace. Harry shook in rage. 

* * *

"What the hell is Lestrange's deal? And you better give me proper answers this time?" Harry snarled as he walked towards his friends in the Gryffindor common room.

"What happened?" Theodore said he looked up from his brook.

"I was coming back from practice. I was alone, just .. lost in my thoughts. Then, he came. He was… too close. His hands were very bold and he was… Argh he called me his pet or something," Harry didn't even deem to sit down. He was way too agitated and his magic was trumming for a confrontation, for a fight, for blood.

"Don't worry, Harry. We won't let him come close to you," Charlus said as he rose from his eat.

"That's not what I asked," Harry yelled. A lamp exploded to his left. "He had the gall to taunt me that my friends were hiding things from me. He thought it was amusing. So you better answer me before I…"

"I'm sorry. We were just trying to protect you."

"I'm no weakling, Charlus!"

"Yes, we know that. But you are new here and we didn't want to overwhelm you," Maya said sympathetically from her seat.

"We better tell him. Charlus," Theodore said somberly, "We won't be able to shield him every time. Lestrange has his eyes set on him. He better know what to expect."

Charlus sighed before he continued. "Lestrange is just a sick bastard. The sickest one in Hogwarts. He likes to play with people. He thinks of them as his toys. Once broken, he discards and moves on to the next…."

"That's…" Harry said, trying to come up with the proper term but for once, he could barely think of anything.

"I know. Sarah Madelaine was the first. We were in the second year. She was with us in Gryffindor."

"Was?"

"Yes," Maya continued, "She was a good girl. Very pretty. Maybe the prettiest one in our year. And muggleborn."

"What happened to her?"

"We don't know. We just know that she was rather close to Lestrange for some time and one day, she just packed her stuff and left."

"Then, there was Gary Fraught, another muggleborn one year below us from Hufflepuff. He was a rather sweet and pleasant fellow. It was last year when were in our fourth year. He said that he was sexually assaulted by Lestrange. He tried to go to the Head of Houses, Berry, Slughorn, Dumbledore and even the Headmaster. But in the end, Lestrange's father, who is in the Board of Governors claimed that it was just a fallacy to frame his son. He was claimed as a liar and instigator. He was even fined by Wizengamot for defamation. He left Hogwarts after the taunts and he never returned."

By this point, all fight had left him as he reeled in shock. "No one did anything?"

"Everyone knows the truth but can't do anything… Lestrange is a powerful family."

"And," Maya continued, "these are just the ones that the student population knows about. I feel like that there are more than that."

"And now he has his eyes set on me…" Harry sighed.

"Don't worry, Harry. We won't let him touch another Gryffindor." Charlus said as he squeezed his shoulder.

Harry just shook his head as mirthless laughs escaped through his lips. He waved them off and went to his room. He went for his bath and turned in early, foregoing the dinner. It was just his luck. Just when he was trying to keep it low, the sick sexually frustrated guy got his eyes on him… If only his life was simple for once. 

* * *

"I'm sorry for yesterday," Harry said as he joined his friend for breakfast the next day, "I was just.. not thinking right."

"It's okay, Harry," Charlus smiled at him, "We understand. You were under lot of stress."

"Yes, but it still doesn't excuse my yelling. You had nothing to do with him. In fact, you were trying to help me. So thanks for that and sorry for my actions."

"You're welcome," Maya replied. She took a generous helping of diced apples and placed it on his plates. Last week, she had noticed that he barely ate and took it upon herself to ensure that he was properly fed. He was just surprised at first but then found himself pleased by her motherly affection. It was nice to be cared for.

After the breakfast, they walked together to the transfiguration class.

"Good morning, Harry."

Harry froze as he listened to the voice. He turned and saw Cepheus standing with his friends to the left. He smirked as he took in his Gryffindor friends surrounding him.

"Leave him alone, Lestrange," Charlus pushed Harry behind him, shielding him.

"Oh, so you finally talked to the mudblood about how things go on around here."

"How dare you use such a word!"

"Well, but it is true…"

Lestrange stopped right there as the door for the class opened and Dumbledore strode out. His eyes went over the confrontational stance between Charlus and Lestrange.

"Get in. It's almost time for class."

The rest of the week passed in more or less the same manner. Lestrange spent most of his time leering at Harry and making inappropriate comments which would set his friends off. Harry knew that the Slytherin was just playing with them. Just like a predator playing with his prey. It was no secret that he was enjoying every minute of seeing the Gryffindors so agitated and helpless. Normally, he would have dealt with Lestrange himself but he didn't want to get everyone's attention on him till his plans were further ahead. So he contented himself with staying with his friends, shielded behind them. So he let Lestrange go on, ignoring him and his comments.

And things spiraled out of hand on Thursday afternoon, after the end of the last class. Maybe he was getting complacent with mere word games. He forgot about the real danger that Lestrange was.

Harry excused himself from his friends and went to the boys rest room on the second floor. As he was washing his hands, he heard the door closing. He turned and saw Lestrange standing there.

"Glad to see you here without our guard lions, though they do behave more like dogs," Lestrange said, coming closer.

"Believe me, Lestrange, you don't want to do this," Harry hissed as the boy intruded in his personal space. Their chests were practically touching. "You have no idea who are playing with."

"I know exactly who I'm playing with, little mudblood. You see, my friends think that your kind is just good for nothing and need to be weeded out. But I beg to differ. I think no matter how dirty your blood is, you can be pretty entertaining."

"Back off, Lestrange," His back was against the wall. Lestrange ran his hand through his hair.

"I must say though you are very pretty. Your hair.. softer and even more beautiful than a girl's." And then, he stared at his eyes , "And your eyes... It gives me thrills when you look at me with such hatred filled eyes. As if you could ever harm me. But it's nice to see a fight, and nicer when I would take all fight out of you."

Harry could hear yells and spells outside the door. Lestrange had surely locked it and set wards. His magic hummed under his skin, waiting to lash out. His fist tightened by his side as he fought to maintain control over his power. It wouldn't do to give away his real potential now. He watched as the boy's hands lowered from his cheek to his neck, his chest, his waist and then lower to finally cusp his groin.

"You dare touch me," Harry yelled as he pushed him off. He clenched his fists, his body still in shock from the sheer audacity of the boy.

"You sure are a fiesty one," Lestrange said. "Well not that I'm not enjoying myself but your guard dogs are calling for you. They can be noisy."

With a wave of his hand, the door flew open.

"What's the meaning of this?" Ogg, the janitor said as he looked at the two boys coming out of the restroom. Charlus and Theodore were standing there with their wands drawn .

"Nothing, sir," Harry said in his best innocent voice, "The door was jammed. We were stuck in and couldn't get it to open."

The man just nodded and walked away while Lestrange shot him an amused look. The other two Gryffindors rounded on the latter, most probably on the point of cursing him and getting landed in detentions.

"Let him go," Harry said dispassionately. Charlus and Theodore looked at him as if he had just grown antlers. Lestrange just smirked and walked away.

"I don't want anyone touching him. He's mine now."

It seemed that his plan to keep a low profile was out of game. There was no way Lestrange was going to go unpunished for his audacity. 

* * *

**Hi Everyone. Sorry for such a late update. Things had come up. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please review. Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Dance of Kings  
****By Iesh**

* * *

**Summary:** AU. A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year in 1943 and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun.

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

* * *

"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- dreams/written words…

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"I think this is a very bad idea," Maya said as they took their seat at the back of the room. There were indeed a lot of Slytherins. Riddle could be seen surrounded by his court. A couple of Ravenclaws sat at one end with a single Hufflepuff among them. And Harry and his friends were the sole Gryffindors.

"Is Riddle going to participate?" Harry asked as he ignored Maya's comment.

"I don't think so. He mostly leaves the tournament to his… friends. Though I heard that he is a rather accomplished sword wielder."

Harry hummed and turned his attention to the raised platform in front, encased in a magical barrier. With sound of a loud gong, the tournament started. Charlus was right when he said that the tournament was catered only for Slytherins. No other Houses participated and all the cheatings were allowed in the name of cunningness and ruse. He watched as one by one, the green-clad participants came in front and challenged the winner. Eventually, the last one standing unchallenged would be crowned as the winner.

Harry noticed as they used underhanded tactics to win. One, Charlus whispered was named Avery, sent discreet stinging hex to his opponent. It was wandless for sure but everyone recognized it for what it was. Some were more open, like Farley, who sent some white powder in his opponent's face which temporarily blinded the victim.

Two hours had passed and they were nearing the end- most of the students had already had a go and it seemed that they were waiting for someone to end it all. Indeed the current winner, Henry, stood resigned as Lestrange challenged him. Like Charlus had told him beforehand, Lestrange relied on healing his wounds and cuts. Harry watched as the boy downed a blue-coloured potion openly in front of the President of the tournament who ignored it.

"And the winner is Cepheus Lestrange. Is there anyone to challenge him?"

Harry looked over the crowd. No one moved, unwilling to go after someone so clearly protected by Riddle.

"I, Harry Evans, challenge Cepheus Lestrange," Harry announced, standing up. He ignored his friends' hisses of warning as he strode down the aisle to the platform in front. He grabbed one of the swords from the wall. He carefully ran his hands along the blade. He held the weapon awkwardly, his hands unused to such a heavy hilt.

"Looks like the pet has gotten his claws out," Lestrange taunted as he strode inside the barrier, "Your terms?"

"Uh? N-No rules, except the standard as dictated by the Sword Duel handbook." Harry stood in front of him, balanced on the soles of his feet, the sword angled a bit too low due to its heavy weight.

"Accepted," Lestrange smirked.

With the go of the President, the Slytherin lunged at him. Harry dove out of the way. He winced as his shoulder took the brunt of the fall. The sound of his sword clanging against the floor resounded through the room. He heard snickers from behind as he ungracefully rose from the floor. Luckily, the sword was still firmly in his grasp.

"It was a bad move to challenge me, pet," Lestrange almost purred.

Harry wet his lips as he prepared himself. Lestrange lunged again. Harry didn't even deign to block him this time. He dunked and pushed the sword forward. The blade went through Lestrange's robe and grazed against his arm.

"Hmm, not bad for someone so clumsy," Lestrange said as he took a few steps back. The displeasure was clear in his voice. The next few minutes, Lestrange attacked with more vigour clearly insulted by Harry having the first cut. Though the Slytherin ended with a few more scratches on each limb, Harry was worse. He had a rather deep cut on his left arm and his feet was sprained from the last tumble. Worst, all the dunking and blocking had brought him to panting. He doubled over, clutching his sides as he tried to ignore the cramps.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as Lestrange took in his potion in full view of the entire crowd. Chuckling to himself, Harry straightened up.

"Sixty."

His voice, loud and clear, reverberated throughout the room. The cheers from the Slytherins silenced down.

"Fifty-nine."

Lestrange eyed him, clearly baffled by the countdown. He lunged towards him. Harry merely rolled away.

"Fifty-eight."

As the countdown progressed, Lestrange got more violent. He attacked with renewed strength. He downed two more vials, preparing him for what waited at the end of the countdown. Harry merely chuckled.

"Two."

The words resounded over the loud clang of steel against steel. Lestrange took a few steps, his whole body in a defensive stance.

"One."

Harry smiled as he felt the whole room's gaze on himself. Lestrange's eyes darted in every direction, his whole body rigid in tension. When nothing happened during the next moments, laughs from the crowd filled the air. Lestrange smirked and launched at the Gryffindor. Harry made no move to block or dive. He kept his sword firmly by his side as Lestrange ran towards him. And after a few steps, the Slytherin sprawled to the ground.

Harry watched as the Slytherin attempted to move but he stayed firmly on the ground. He couldn't help it as the laughs escaped through his lips. He lifted the sword with the ease of proper sword master and balanced the sword on the palm of his hand.

"You… you poisoned me!" Lestrange yelled as his body shook under soft tremors.

"Mr. Evans," the President's voice boomed in the room, "Poisoning your opponent goes against the rules. Breaking the rules would consider you as forfeting the-"

"I haven't poisoned him," Harry scoffed at the accusation.

"Of course he has. He must have used something."

"Mr. Evans, did you use a foreign object in his duel?"

"As a matter of fact, I did!" Harry shrugged, "But it surely wasn't poison. As the rule 11.3 clearly states that only a substance whose nature is to harm isn't to be used, I didn't break any rules."

"That's for us to judge. What did you use?"

"I coated my blade with a healing potion," Harry grinned.

"What? Why- why would he use a healing potion?" Lestrange was purple with rage at this point. "He's lying."

Harry merely rolled his eyes. He withdrew his wand from his pocket. "I, Harry Evans, swear on my magic that I have used only a healing potion on my blade. So mote be it. Lumos." A bright light filled the room.

"As for why I used this… well, truth to be told, I was worried about the duel. The thing is that Lestrange and I are on completely different levels. He's so weak that I was actually worried I would crush him like the bug that he is. So I pitied him and used this underhanded tactic to give him some kind of advantage. I hoped to even the odds a bit, to give him a small yet possible chance to win against me. But alas, despite all my efforts, his own pathetic attempt to win wasn't enough." Harry shrugged as he walked around the still immobile Lestrange.

"That's a load of bullshit. I wear my father will get you for this, Evans."

"Step out, Mr. Evans. We'll see what we can do."

"With all due respect, Mr. President, the duel isn't over yet. The duel ends only when one has yielded magically or verbally or when one has relinquished his hold on the sword or when one is unconscious. Since none of this applies to any of us, the duel is still very on."

"Yes, that's true" the President said, quickly shuffling through the papers to find some hidden rule, "But since Mr. Lestrange is…indisposed right now, if you could just take his sword away. This would count as your win any way as it seems to be the case."

Harry laughed at this point. "But sir, like I just proved, I did nothing to harm him. Who knows? Maybe it is another of his Slytherin scheme to catch me unaware. I wouldn't put it past him. So I won't be going close to his sword without taking certain… assurances of his indisposition."

"Mr. Evans…"

"The dueling handbook rule 14.8, a duel is to be ended automatically if one of the participants is considered as grievously harmed. The following is not counted as grievous and clearly is considered as no harming to the dueler. 14.8 part 1 crushed or bruised fingers..."

Harry smirked as he stepped in the shaking fingers of his fallen opponent. Lestrange's cries resounded through the room. He laughed as the spectators gasped as one.

"Part 2, bruised ribs, not broken," Harry snarled as he aimed a powerful kick. The Slytherin's shouts of pains filled in the now eerily silent room.

"Part 3, broken bones of only one hand and one leg…" He stomped on Lestrange's left hand, a loud crack ringing amongst the cries. Walking over the boy, he stomped with equally force on his right leg. By now, tears could be seen on the Slytherin's face. His breathing was erratic as he tried to rein in the pain.

"Part 4, a severed finger can be accepted as long as it can be attached back by a competent healer."

Harry wet his lips as Lestrange looked at him with huge scared eyes. He hesitated as the sword trembled in his hand. "Maybe I should just leave this one…" he mumbled to himself as his sword came to rest by his side. He watched the relief shone in his opponent's eyes. "Maybe not." With a clear stroke, he brought his sword down, slicing Lestrange's left thumb out.

He wiped the blood on the blade on his robe. "I told you Lestrange that you shouldn't have messed with me. I can be a very vicious bastard. I was all for staying as some harmless Gryffindor mudblood but you just had to come and taunt the monster in me, didn't you?" He knelt down in front of the Slytherin, intentionally ignoring the crowd around them. "I mean, it sure was hard enough to play the average wizard and then you came with your pathetic and kinda sick interest. I mean, I didn't even last two weeks as the average wizard," Harry pouted as he ran his hand through his hair in distress. "The Sorting Hat will be so smug when he hears of this. He actually laughed when I told him that I wanted to lay low. I would almost consider you in cohorts with him." Harry sighed as he looked at the boy in front of him. For the first time, there was true fear in his eyes. He seemed to have caught on to madness hiding behind the facade. Harry smiled as he traced a finger along the boy's face, ignoring the flinch.

"Such a pretty face, I must admit," Harry purred, "The high cheekbones, the blue eyes, the soft hair." He treaded his hand through the soft blond locks. In a flash, the smile changed to a snarl. His hold on the hair tightened and he smashed the fearful face against the ground. A loud howl sang in his ears as Lestrange's nose broke against the floor. Harry caught the blood on his hand.

"Hey, look at that. Your blood's red as mine. It seems that your inbred pure blood isn't so different from my dirty mud blood, isn't it?"

Harry jumped to his feet. "Anyway, my job here is done. Oh yeah." With a swift kick (he laughed as Lestrange winced), he threw the Slytherin's sword out of his unmoving grasp.

"So anyone want to challenge me?" Harry grinned at the crowd staring at him. He avoided looking at his friends, unsure about their reactions. The Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuff looked clearly awed. And the Slytherins were definitely not pleased by his actions if their pinched faces were any sign. But he knew that they wouldn't be challenging him, at least when they had no idea how Lestrange ended on the floor paralyzed, completely vulnerable to his madness. And he knew well the image he was projecting. With his manic grin plastered on his face, his eye glinting with bloodlust, the sword balanced causally by his side and his left hand soaked in his opponent's blood.

"Nobody? Guess the prize money's mine then. He dropped the sword on the President's table and grabbed the pouch of galleons. "Just drop the trophy to Professor Dumbledore' office. I hope that he will be pleased that it has been returned to the House of the Chivalry again."

He strode to the door. Opening, he looked back at the silent room. "And please someone take that poor bloke to a healer. Maybe one may help him but then, maybe not." His laughs resounded throughout the room even after he had left.

* * *

Harry sighed as he stepped out of the room. He hurriedly pulled out the empty vial from his robes. He carefully poured the blood on his hands in the vial till it was at least half full. He then cleaned his hands and hid the vial back in his pocket

Hearing the door open behind him, he turned just in time to see a pair of arms grabbing him and hugging him.

"That was amazing!" Charlus gushed as he let him go, "And yes, congratulations on being the Sword Tournament Champion."

"So you guys are okay with it?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Why wouldn't we?" Theodore as he clapped his back, "Lestrange definitely deserved it."

"And he clearly didn't see this coming," Maya smiled but then frowned, "But he's going to get you back for this, you know."

"And we'll be prepared for it," Charlus said.

"But his father…"

"I'll talk to my father about this. There was nothing against the rules. And he knows about the Slytherins," Charlus continued as they walked back to the tower.

"It won't be necessary," Harry said, "I'll talk to Lord Lestrange myself when he comes. I'm sure that he'll be very understanding."

"Harry…"

"Trust me," Harry smiled back. "I know what I'm doing. You should know by now that it does no good to underestimate me."

"Okay," Charlus said hesitantly while the others nodded.

By the time it was dinner, the whole school had heard about the Sword Tournament debacle. Sure, some were highly exaggerated. He heard some Gryffindors talking about how he beheaded Lestrange in front of the Headmaster and then bathed in his blood. Harry laughed at that one and mentioned about potential ideas if Lestrange got out of hands again. It sure sounded interesting.

Of course, if the whole school heard about it, the professors did too. So that was how he found himself in Professor Dumbledore's office after dinner.

"I heard about your winning of the Sword Fighting tournament, Harry," Dumbledore said as Harry took his seat, "I hardly expected this from you."

"It was necessary, Sir."

"There were others ways to resolve this issue. If Lestrange was harassing you, you could have approached the teachers, the Head of Houses or even the Prefects."

"And that would have helped?"

"We would have protected you or would have made Lestrange understand."

"Like you helped Sarah Madeleine? Or Gary Fraught?" Harry shot back.

Dumbledore's face took a grave expression. "I know that the past hasn't been the best example. But it doesn't mean that the history has to repeat itself."

"Please, Sir. I think I deserve more credit than this. I don't doubt your sincerity or even any other Professor's if I went to them. But it would have been barely enough if Lord Lestrange got involved in. It would have been my word against his son's. That of a muggleborn against a pureblood. And we both know how that would have turned out."

"There are other ways to solve issues than violence."

"So I should have just spread my legs and allowed him to have his way," Harry snapped.

"Mr. Evans!"

"Sorry, Sir," Harry raked his hand through his hair, "It's just that… Truly, I had just two ways. Either to lie low, let him get bored and allow him to move onto his next interest. Or to confront him and show him that I was a potential threat and force him to back off. I tried the first one. I truly did and I wish that it worked. But it didn't. So I had to take drastic measures. Proud or not of my actions, I don't regret them one bit and I'm willing to take any punishment for it."

Professor Dumbledore looked at Harry gravely without a merest flicker of smile. But then he sighed. "I do understand our position, Harry. Only next time, I would prefer if you consult me before you take on such extreme steps."

"Sure, Sir," Harry smiled, though he knew that he wouldn't be holding his word.

"Now, I must congratulate you on your win, no matter how unorthodox it was. The cup does look great in my office. But I think that for the first night, it should grace the walls of the Gryffindor Common Room. After all, the cup has returned to the House of Courage after so many years."

"Thank you, Sir." Harry took the cup and walked back to the tower.

* * *

**A/N: Here's the fourth chapter and Harry's retribution against Lestrange. I wonder if I went a bit overboard. Was the violence a bit too much? Let me know what you think.**

**And we finally get to meet Tom next chapter! So Yay for that. :D**

**Thanks a lot for all those who reviewed, fav'd and followed the story. Please review and tell me how you found this chapter.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Dance of Kings  
****By Iesh**

* * *

**Summary:** AU. A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year in 1943 and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun.

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

* * *

"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- dreams/written words…

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The party continued past the curfew time. Michael and his friends had managed to smuggle some snacks and drinks from the kitchen. The Cup was passed from one Gryffindor to the next as the story was told again and again, though his friends did reduce the amount of violence and glee with which he broke Lestrange's bones. He was regularly clapped on the back and said how he was truly a Gryffindor.

By the time they woke up the next day, it was already rather late. Harry and his friends dragged their feet to the Great Hall for an early lunch since they had skipped the breakfast.

"I wonder when Lord Lestrange will be coming?" Theodore asked as they took their seat, "And Lestrange isn't to be seen too."

"Yes, he won't be back till the evening and that's if Madame Hardy isn't keeping him in for the night," Harry helped himself to some mashed potatoes, "And Lord Lestrange won't be coming till tomorrow, with today being Sunday and all."

How he knew about about Lestrange still being bed ridden, his friends didn't ask. They spent the rest of the day doing their homework and lazying around in the common room. With Michael increasing the number of practices to three nights per week, it was a luxury Harry and Charlus could barely afford.

As the clock struck midnight, Harry closed the book he was reading on his bed. He stilled and listened to his roommates' soft snores. Assured that they were all asleep, he grabbed his wand and his cloak. He silently cast disillusionment and silencing charms. Luckily, the Common Room was deserted so he had no problem opening the door. He ignored the Fat Lady's call and questions about who he was.

He entered one of the unused rooms. He cast the strongest Locking Charms he knew as well as a Notice-me-not one in case someone was making rounds at this hour. He took out a small bowl as well as the vial of Lestrange's blood from his pocket. Enlarging the container into a proper Blood Ritual vessel, he poured seven drops of the Slytherin's blood in. Using the remaining blood, he drew the necessary runes on his wrists and forehead. He closed his eyes and let his magic out. The familiar peace caressed his cheek as he started chanting.

"Eih Meh Ternuz Die Heglaz

Resi Grent Heglaz Gorn Humt."

He could feel the moonlight on his face, mingling with his own magic. With each chant, the magic in the room grew till it exploded in brilliant white light at the last word. Harry smirked as the runes on his wrists and forehead disappeared in a flash of white.

* * *

Whispers followed Harry as he walked to the breakfast the next morning. He frowned as he took his seat. He raised his head and surveyed the Great Hall. Everyone was here. And so was Lestrange and by the smug way he was looking at him, his father was surely coming or was already in the castle. Harry sighed as he took his toast and buttered it as quickly as he could. Indeed he had barely taken a bite, when Dumbledore came to him.

"Evans, if you could accompany me to my office?" His face was somber without any of the usual twinkling in his eyes.

"Sure, Sir," Harry replied as he hastily took a bite of his toast, already up from his seat and following his Head of House.

He checked his clothes, tightening his tie as he finished his toast. He did his best to arrange his long red hair in a tidy ponytail; he knew that the pureblood lines placed a lot of importance on appearance.

"Professor Dumbledore." Lord Lestrange was an older and sharper version of his son. He had the same blue eyes and chestnut hair along with the same defined features that the purebloods had been graced with. "And this must be the boy… muggleborn!" he sneered at the word. Harry could practically hear the mudblood beneath the tone.

"Like I said earlier, Lord Lestrange, Evans here had followed the rules accordingly. He can't be punished for his acts," Professor Dumbledore supplied as all three took their seats at his table.

"My son was paralyzed for a whole night and day. His bones were broken. His ribs were bruised. His finger was sliced clean. And you dare tell me that it was within the rules?" the Lord's voice roared over the room. Harry fidgeted in his seat, his hands wringing in his lap.

"Your son was fully aware of the dangers when participating in the tournament, Lord Lestrange."

"I don't care. This boy is to be expelled at this very moment. And trust me, this issue will be brought to the Wizengamot."

"Lord Lestrange-"

"P-Professor, could have I have two minutes with Lord Lestrange, please?"

"I don't think-"

"I think it's a fine idea," the Lord sneered.

"Okay, I will be waiting for you in the Entrance Hall," Professor Dumbledore addressed this more to Harry than the Lord before he left.

"So, what do you-"

"We just have two minutes, so I'll be brief and direct to the point," Harry said confidently as he sat straight on his seat and looked at the Lord coolly, "Your son is a fool for having messed with me. Any Slytherin worth its salts knows to gauge its prey before lunging. And your son had the stupidity of taking a predator larger than himself. So I hope that you will understand that I had to drive the lesson of self preservation in his head with this very drastic yet very effective manner."

"I-"

"Your son was stupid enough to let me walk away with his blood, my hand totally soaked in his blood. You know where this is going on. Cepheus is your only son, isn't he? Your heir? I heard that purebloods hold their lineage in very high esteem. Now, you will find that if you don't try to understand me, your heir will find himself in a very precarious situation indeed. Let's just say that he won't be able to continue the lineage as you would have liked."

"What nonsense!"

"Oh come on. You won't play the ignorant now, will you? It hardly suits you, Lord Lestrange. You felt it last night at the exactly ten past midnight. As the Head of family, your Family Magics surely warned you about the Infertility Curse that fell on your line. Yes, it was me. And it will be on for as long as I want! It can only to remove willingly."

"I will drag you to Wizengamot."

"And do what? Fine me? Snap my wand? Cast my magic away? I don't care, Lord Lestrange. I'm a mudblood. I will go back to the gutter from where my ancestors rose. But you, my Lord? You will fade to nothing. All your blood, your Family Magics, your name will be cast to dust. So I think that you will understand that this is just a teenager's spat. Your son and I had a few words. We fought and became quit. That's it. Don't you agree?"

Lord Lestrange's face turned an ugly shade of red. Harry knew that he was currently thinking of several ways of killing him, all of which included lots of pain. But he could barely harm him. For if something happened to him, the curse on his line would never be removed.

And despite his claims, he could barely drag anyone else in the matter. If the matter about the Infertility Curse went out, his name would be dragged in mud and all the betrothal contracts waiting his son would be cancelled faster than a blink.

"I'm glad that you understand," Harry smiled, "May I accompany you to the Entrance Hall? I guess that the Wizengamot will be starting in around thirty minutes."

Lord Lestrange made a strangled sound, surely at the idea of the whole board learning about the curse. Harry chuckled as he followed the Lord to the Entrance Hall where Professor Dumbledore was waiting for them along with quite a considerable amount of students. Apparently words about the confrontation had got out.

"Lord Lestrange, would you like to accompany me to the Headmaster's office? I understand that this isn't the most ideal place."

"It's okay, Dumbledore. The young…man had talked to me. I understand that it was just a tournament and the boys were just resolving some spat among themselves," Lord Lestrange spoke as if each word was dragged out of his mouth. Harry just smiled by his side. He saw the young Lestrange who looked ready to explode his father's words.

"Father! You can't… He humiliated me in front of everyone," Lestrange hissed as he abandoned his Slytherin friends and approached his father.

"I… In life sometimes, it's wiser to accept a defeat, Cepheus."

"But father-"

"Enough, Cepheus. Your stupidity has already cost us more than you think. Trust me, we will be having words about this soon!"

And the Lord stormed out of the Entrance Hall while his son looked as if he could barely understand what was going on.

"I told you, Lestrange. Not to mess with me," Harry whispered in his ear before he walked towards his friends, his chuckles resounding in the Hall.

"What the hell happened?" Theodore asked as they walked to the dungeons for the Potions Class.

"Like I said, Lord Lestrange was very understanding about the situation," Harry grinned, "After all, it was just a simple tournament."

* * *

Harry and his friends silently took their seats in the Potions class. He could feel the Slytherins' eyes on him, surely wondering how he could have faced Lord Lestrange and still be in the school. Harry merely grinned as Professor Slughorn entered the class.

"Good morning everyone. I hope that you had a great weekend," he said as he sat at his table. "Today we'll be going through the Base of Vigour. Can anyone tell us about it?"

Several hands went up and among was Riddle's.

"Yes, Riddle."

"Base of Vigour is one of the most useful starting base for many potions such as the Draught of Living Death and Amortenia. Its particularity lies in the main ingredient – FireGrass which in itself is a highly reactive ingredient which tends to explode with many potions ingredients in any of its state, whether diced, chopped, sliced or crushed. This makes the Base of Vigour one of the most explosive bases . I'm personally in favour of using other less explosive ones such as the Base of Peace."

Harry cocked his eyebrow. Definitely not a definition learned from a single textbook. Nevertheless, he rose his hand.

"Since Base of Vigour is such a reactive starting base, wouldn't it be better than, let's say, Base of Peace?" Harry asked after Slughorn asked him to go ahead.

"But it would explode with several ingredients," Riddle said, with a small sneer in his voice.

"Indeed, but the surrounding conditions can be controlled. To make the Draught of Living Death, the Base of Peace requires several ingredients to make react, and it includes several expensive catalysts such as Valerian Root and Wormwood. But with the Base of Vigour, these catalysts have no use since the FireGrass and Asphodel will react in contact, without any assistance."

"And how would you go on controlling the surroundings." Riddle frowned as he looked at Harry from the other end of the class.

"Well, reducing and completely removing the fire for one. It depends on the individual ingredients used. Surely, Blackthorn to absorb and control the heat. Maybe, some Mermaid's Tears to bring balance."

"Nevertheless, it remains very dangerous. Base of Peace does provide safer solutions, even if it is mildly less reactive."

"True but I just don't agree with the reasoning. If you have a proper and highly potential subject, you don't snuff out its capacity under the pretense of dangers. You just cater for its surroundings and bring it to its best."

"Base of Vigour is no person, Evans," Riddle said calmly, though he could hear the roll in his eyes.

"I-" Harry started as he registered what Riddle had said. He then starting laughing while the rest of the class looked at him as if he had finally lost his remaining sanity. "Sorry, Sir." He said, addressing Slughorn. "I tend to think of potions and ingredients as persons. Demelby told be the same thing the first time we met."

"No worry, my boy," Slughorn beamed, "That was some great arguments you brought here. And I know many Potioneers who cherish their potions more than their own child. Now Demelby? Would that be…"

Harry flushed as he stared as the floor though he inwardly grinned. "Demelby Grouch," he said in a small voice which carried over the whole class, "the Dditor-in-Chief for Potions Today and Young Potioneers."

Slughorn's eyes went round. "You met Grouch?"

"Yes, he was friend with Master Flamel. He used to come over a few times. We talked about potions. Then one day, he convinced me to write an article for Young Potioneers."

"You have papers published?" Sluhorn looked ready to hug Harry and was now standing in front of his table, completely ignoring the rest of his gawking class.

"Yes, three. Two for Young Potioneers and one of Potions Today."

"That's mightily impressive, Harry," Slughorn said (he duly noted the switching to his first name). "We'll sure have to talk about this one day. Well class, this discussion between Base of Vigour and Base of Peace clearly reflects the two school of thoughts among the Potioneers, which had started first between Paracelsus and his son, Veracelsus.

Now, we'll all start preparing the Base of Vigour for today. It should be finished by our next class. And then, we'll use to create another potion. As such, I had planned for Strengthening Potion which is the safest and most common use for this base but after this marvelous discussion between Riddle and Evans, I think I should let you choose which potions to make. And yes, thirty points to Slytherin and Gryffindor each for answering the questions and asking the correct ones. Now, let's get moving."

They spent the rest of the class working on their potion. Harry smiled as for once he didn't have to hide his skills. He properly diced his ingredients and allowed for the proper number of turns. He couldn't help the grin by the time Slughorn came to check his potions.

"Hmm, it should be good for the resting part now. The clear pale blue colour, the silver vapour and ah… a green sheen. Isn't this one of Veracelsus' recommendation?"

"Yes, like I said I tend to follow his school of thought about Base of Vigour being the most powerful base."

"Good job, my boy. Ten points to Gryffindor for this unorthodox potions making."

* * *

"I still can't believe that you're some kind of potions prodigy," Charlus grumbled as they sat at the library for their homework.

"Why?" Harry frowned, starting on his almost-done Transfiguration homework.

"We're Gryffindors. We are supposed to suck at Potions."

Harry laughed. "Well, openly rebelling at Gryffindors pre-defined set of characteristics does make me brave. So I think this in turn evens out my potions skill."

"Perhaps," Charlus grinned.

"May I join you?"

Harry turned as he saw Riddle standing in front of him. He noticed that his friends were looking straight at their homework, stiff in their posture.

"Sure," Harry smiled, pointing to one of the empty seats.

"I was pleasantly surprised by your answers and arguments in the Potions class," Riddle said. Contrary to Lestrange's voice, Harry heard no malice whatsoever in his. But he knew better than to trust the one who was reigning at the top of the Slytherin hierarchy.

"Thank you," Harry smiled back in the same pleasant manner as he flipped through the Transfiguration textbook for the proper answer for his essay, "I was impressed by yours to. It's not everyday that we hear someone's opinions and not one recited by heart from the textbook."

"Glad that you think that. Professor Slughorn seems to be particularly taken with you. You would have done well in the Slytherin house."

"You think so?" Harry frowned innocently. He saw that his friends had pinched expressions on their face.

"Yes, after all, that was a very Slytherin move against Lestrange. Using the the 17th century Amonate healing balm, which is known for using Gormwood, a strong paralyser when mixed with Aconite, a ingredient used in most contemporary healing potions."

Oh, so that's what he's here for. "True but to be fair, it did ask for a lot of Gryffindor courage too," Harry answered nonchalantly as he scribbled on the paper for his essay, "Though yes, it was a rather Slytherin move."

"One may wonder why a Gryffindor would use such a Slytherin move. I thought that you would be more for a direct confrontation without any underhanded schemes." Riddle sounded truly puzzled at this point.

Harry bit his lips as he read through his essay. "Does anyone know what's the twelfth use of dragon blood? I know that it's a rather stupid one but for the life of mine, I just can't remember it."

"I thought there was only ten?" Theodore said from his left.

"No. Professor Dumbledore worked with Master Flamel last year and added two more." Harry waved his hand impatiently as he flipped through his book though he knew that it held no answer.

"To be used as oven cleaner," Riddle helped.

"Yes!" Harry grinned, "I knew it was something rather dumb. I mean who would dare clean their oven with expensive dragon blood if there's already proper cleaning charms. Wizard logic…"

"It's from your Head of House."

"Exactly. You can't say that he's right in the head," Harry said with a characteristics roll of eyes as he wrote the final paragraph of his essay. "Do you know what Lestrange holds most dear in his life?" he added in the same nonchalant tone. "His pureblood status. Now, I admit that I did think about draining him of his blood and hanging him in the Great Hall but it was so messy so I moved to the next. The second thing he holds most dear is the advantages, the status it brings him. As such in the real world that would be his Lord or Heir status, his seats in Wizengamot. And here at school, it would be his status as the right hand of the Slytherin king."

He heard Maya take a sharp intake of breath. Charlus was white and so was Theodore.

" And there is no better way to crumble down the hierarchy than to be out-Slytherined by a Gryffindor mudblood. Normally that wouldn't have been permanent and I wouldn't have cared. But the fact that he lost his father's favour in front of everyone, well, let's just say that it was an unintentional but highly welcomed aspect."

"You do know that Lestrange will try to get back to you," Riddle asked, his voice devoid of any emotion. Harry cocked his head as he tried to identify what he was thinking.

"I know that no one will stop him. And I don't want anyone to either."

"It is getting rather late for lunch and I guess that I should head to the Great Hall. My friends are surely waiting for me. It was a pleasure talking to you."

"Likewise."

Riddle rose from his seat and walked away but not before throwing a last calculative look at harry.

"Harry," Theodore hissed, "He's the Slytherin king."

"I know," Harry grinned.

"You're crazy!"

"I know that too."

* * *

**A/N: Here's the fifth chapter and we finally meet Riddle. I know it was rather basic but we will be seeing more of him from now on. So what do you think? About Riddle? About Harry? I hope that the plan Harry used in the Tournament was clear enough.**

**Thanks a lot for the reviews, favs and follows. It had brightened my week. So, please do review and let me know what you think. Like I said, we are finally entering the phase where we'll be seeing more Tom/Harry goodness. :D**


	7. Chapter 6

**Dance of Kings  
****By Iesh**

* * *

**Summary:** AU. A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year in 1943 and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun.

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

* * *

"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- dreams/written words…

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Harry opened the dorm's door only to find Charlus and Minerva in the middle of an argument.

"-dangerous, Charlus!" Minerva all but shouted while her arms moved in all directions. His dormmate had his hair messier than usual and his fists were clenched by his side.

"Sorry," Harry said when the two turned to look at him, "I'll come back later."

"No, come in," Charlus said, "Minerva is leaving anyway."

Harry watched as the girl just huffed and left. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Charlus hesitated before continuing, "She heard the real story of what happened in the tournament and said that I should keep my distance from you. According to her, the Slytherins won't be leaving you alone now and that they'll probably target your friends. She added that you're too vicious and dangerous to be around."

"Oh, she's right," Harry said as he dropped his bag on his bed, "So what have you decided?"

"What do you mean what I have decided?" Charlus asked incredulously, "I was there. I watched you break Lestrange's bones and laugh at his pain. I saw you talk back to Riddle! Riddle! The most dangerous Slytherin in the school. Believe me, I know how cruel you can be. And I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Why?" Harry frowned.

"Well, to be truthful, I don't know," Charlus looked sheepish, "It's fun. Exciting. When you first started, you looked lost, innocent and well, weak. I know that you aren't any of these three. I know you can take care of yourself but this doesn't mean I can't be here for you. And mostly because, I don't know, I feel a connection? I feel like standing by your side?" His friend's cheeks were bright red by the time he was finished.

"Wow, are you coming on me, Charlus?" Harry laughed.

"What? No! I didn't mean it like that. I like girls. I mean like a …" Charlus said indignantly and then added in a softer voice, "like a friend."

"Oh," Harry cocked his head sideways, "I do think of you like a friend too. You, Theodore and Maya. My first friends."

"First?"

"Hmm, my life back at the muggles was difficult to say the least and my masters were old, ancient actually and they had no kids whatsoever.. so yeah."

"Don't worry, we're here now!" Charlus grinned.

"Yeah."

"Now enough of this emotional and sensitive things. Let's go and do some manly stuff like punch some Slytherins."

Harry laughed as he followed his very first friend out of the dorm.

* * *

Like he had predicted, Lestrange crumbled down the Slytherin hierarchy. By the time dinner rolled, he was sitting at the end of the table with the third years. His tall frame a clear contrast against the smaller ones of the younger students.

But Harry knew that it was far from over. Riddle was publicly humiliating Lestrange to provoke, to push the pureblood to the end of his limits to attack the Gryffindor. He surely wanted to see till where did Harry's capabilities stretch.

Harry kept his eyes open and so did his friends and strangely quite a number of Gryffindors. They all knew that the Slytherins were going to get back at Harry for the humiliating tournament loss.

The rest of the classes passed in similar manner. The professors were surprised by the increase in his capabilities and grasp of spells. Some like Flitwick bounced and awarded him points for coming out of his shell. Others like Professor Dumbledore told him to not hold himself back again or he would be losing point. Harry just smiled and played the blushing yet pleased newcomer. He knew that a few saw right through it but he barely cared at this point.

* * *

When Harry entered the Great Hall for dinner on Friday night, he knew that something was off. For one, Lestrange was sitting closer to Riddle, next to him, though there was a considerable space between them. And second, the Slytherins kept throwing furtive glances at the Gryffindor table. Harry frowned as he took his seat near his friends. He stared at the food resting on the table in front of him. He took in a deep breath and found nothing amiss in the scent. Alert, he loaded some mash potatoes on his plate and starting eating.

By his third bite, he felt small tremors along his hand. Harry sniffed at his food and noticed nothing. As he took his fourth bite, he noticed it- the spoon. They had switched the poisoned spoon with his when he had started eating.

'An excellent piece of Switching Transfiguration indeed,' he thought darkly.

He bit his lips as his other hand started to shake too. He knew very well which potion was used - the Paralyzing Draught. It was made from Gormwood and Aconite, took control over the motor nerves and lasted 24 hours. It had no antidote, whatsoever. It was just like he had done to Lestrange. Raising his head, many of the Slytherins snickering and chuckling among themselves, prominent among them was Lestrange. He frowned as his hands started shaking more violently along with his feet. He carefully removed the leather bracelet from his hand.

"Engorgio," he whispered. The bracelet grew to a belt and he carefully unraveled it revealing several vials. He pulled out a clear blue one and a pure white one before charming the belt back to its bracelet form. His friends were watching him worriedly as the shaking grew more violent. He hastily cast an alarm charm on the blue potion before opening the pure white vial.

Ignoring his shaking hands, he drank it all in one gulp. Icy cold liquid went past his throat, numbing the whole area. He was well aware of the eyes on him. He bit his lip as he removed a book from his bag and opened it in front of him.

"Harry, are you okay?" Maya, who was sitting in front of him, asked.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"The Slytherins, well, I think it's Lestrange, poisoned me with Paralyzing Draught."

"What?" Charlus asked, "but- we need to go to the mediwitch. I'm sure she'll find something."

"Paralyzing potion has no antidote," Harry said as the shaking started to reduce, "she won't be able to help me, at least not in conventional methods."

"But you just took something? And the shaking is reducing…"

"I took the Icy death of Morgana." Harry could barely feel his fingers as he flipped through the pages while the numbness spread through his whole body.

"That's a Class 1 poison," Charlus replied, his eyes wide in horror.

"Every poison is an antidote and every antidote is poison, Charlus," Harry merely hummed as he kept looking his book. The shaking were reduced to tremors by now but pain started shooting through his limbs. He was well aware of the eyes of the majority of Gryffindor and Slytherin on him. Hopefully the professors weren't pay him any attention. The second trickled by as his skin turned paler. His fingernails were turning pale blue and he was sure that so were his lips.

He could no longer turn the page by this point. His vision blurred. He closed his eyes as pain lanced through his whole body. He had to use every inch of his determination not to cry out. He felt like his whole body was drowned in the iciest of water.

"Harry," he could barely hear Maya - as if she was across the hall, instead of in front of him. He tried to reply to hear but he merely whimpered. He almost cried out in relief as the clear blue vial in front of him shone white. He hastily uncorked it, after trying to maneuver his numb hands, and gulped it all. The book fell out of his lap and he grasped the table edge as he felt the pain slowly reducing. His skin regained its healthy colour and so did his fingernails and lips. He sighed when the feeling returned to his limbs. He grinned, flexing his fingers.

"What the hell was that?" Charlus managed to ask while his friends looked at him as if he was a ghost. "You looked like you were in pain."

"I was. Icy Death inflames your pain nerves throughout your body. But it also erodes all potions affecting your motor nerves, those for moving and feelings and all potions attached to them like the paralyzing draught. "

"I thought Icy Death killed you in one excruciating minute."

"Not the way I brewed it."

"That was… unreal," Theodore said, his dinner barely touched.

"Thanks," Harry smiled as he rose from his seat, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some… friends to visit."

Under the stares of the whole Great Hall, Harry made his way to the Slytherin table. He sat in the sole empty seat in front of Riddle ignoring the glares sent by the rest of the table.

"Seriously?" he told Lestrange, "Poisoning a potions prodigy? That's the best you can do? Well, to be frank, I admit it must have been my fault. I somehow overestimated your capabilities. Turns out you are even more worthless than I initially thought, Lestrange."

"You, little-" Lestrange said as he drew his wand.

"Expelliarmus," Harry drawled and he disarmed the boy wandlessly, "I am immensely disappointed. Is this the fabled cunning of the might Salazar that the Slytherin boast of?"

"That's a very serious accusation to make in the pit of snakes, Evans," Riddle smiled at him yet his voice remained frigid cold.

"Well, there' s not much threat for a lion among grass snakes, is there?"

"So you think you are surrounded by grass snakes?" Riddle chuckled, dark and dangerous.

"Hmm, mostly. Though I do see a few adders, hiding their true venom," Harry said as his eyes roved over the table, "a few rattlesnakes who have more bark than bite , one flobberworm-" at this point Harry smirked pointedly at Lestrange who was shaking in rage.

"You piece-" Lestrange started but Harry merely silenced him with a wave of his hand before continuing.

"Have your father not taught you to not interrupt when your betters are talking, Lestrange? Now where was I? Ah, yes, and of course, the reigning King Cobra." He stared at Riddle at the last part.

"Indeed," Riddle replied with small tug of his smile on his lips, "I must say you just had the most interesting dinner. If I'm not wrong, you did intake the Icy Death of Morgana and yet…"

"I'm here?" Harry smiled, "well, it was one of my personally brewed potions. They tend to be different and personalized. I have found that the pain caused by the original poison can be dragged over several minutes after certain modification."

"That must be very… painful."

Harry shrugged. "Like a mild Cruciatus."

"How interesting," Riddle said with a glint in his eyes, "I guess that's how you overrode the paralyzing potion. By inflaming the pain nerves and eroding the Draught controlling your motor cells."

"Indeed."

"I'm truly impressed by your capabilities, Evans," Riddle continued, "I assure you that Lestrange will not be pestering you from now forth."

"It's okay, Riddle. I must admit he is mildly amusing. You know, like a small pet that keeps barking at you to get your attention but would never bite you…" At this point, Lestrange lunged to grab Harry before he was brought to his seat by Malfoy who was sitting by his side.

"Be careful, Lestrange," Harry said, his voice devoid of all nonchalance and warmth, as he withdrew his wand and twirled it between his fingers, "my capabilities go beyond wandless disarming and silencing spells."

"I doubt that, you dirty mudblood," Lestrange snarled at him, all decorum lost.

Harry clenched his fist. "Avada!"

A jet of green light left his wand and impacted Lestrange. Several of the students jumped away from him. The few girls screamed. Riddle sat at his place unmoved while Harry laughed as Lestrange's hair turned a Gryffindor red.

"What's the meaning of this?" Slughorn said, walking towards the group.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said, all coldness from earlier vanished only to be replaced by his signature innocent and flushed look, "I- well, I was saying that I have crafted my own spell and Lestrange dared me. He didn't believe me. I just- I'm sorry. I just couldn't help showing off. I… turned his hair red with one of my spells."

Slughorn laughed. "Don't worry, my boy. What's the use of having a few skills if you don't show them to a couple of friends. And crafting your own spells… boy, you continue to surprise me."

"Well, I learnt that it was a useful tool for potioneers. And you would know, Sir. After all, you are the one who have invented the Inviro spell which all the potioneers use."

Slughorn preened at the compliment, "I should be appalled that Grouch is spilling all my secrets to you, my boy." But he seemed far from displeased. In fact, he seemed very pleased that the news had reached his students' ears.

"Anyway, glad to see you here among my Slytherins. I am sure that you will be able to help each other. So let's just say, ten points to Gryffindor for fostering inter-house relations and twenty points for this marvelous of spellcrafting."

Harry smirked as Slughorn turned and returned to his place. "And this, Lestrange, is how they do proper cunning and ambition?" He winked at the fuming boy and laughed as he rose and walked away. That red hair wouldn't be coming off till at least three days.

* * *

Harry walked along the Charms aisle, looking for a reference for Professor Flitwick's lastest essay. He ran his hands along the spine of the books, perusing along the golden and silver letters on the leather-bound books.

"Hello, Evans."

Harry turned and saw Riddle walking towards him.

"Hello, Riddle. Such a surprise meeting you here." Though he hardly believed it. If they met, it was because Riddle wanted to.

"It is definitely a pleasant surprise. By the way, I wanted to talk to you. I hope that you don't take Lestrange's actions against me or my housemates."

"Of course not," Harry smiled. His insides squirmed and his grasp on the book tightened.

"Glad to hear that. Like I said last night, my friends and I were very impressed by your capabilities shown during the past few weeks. We have a small… club reserved for those who have a higher capability as wizards and witches. I would like to invite you."

"I'm flattered, Riddle but I don't think someone with my standing would fit amongst your friends."

"Don't be so quick to judge, Evans," Riddle smiled, reminding of a shark circling him, or worst, a deadly King Cobra about to strike, "My friends are very understanding."

'They would be when you probably threatened them,' Harry mused while he tried to find a proper reply. "Their ways and mine are very different. No matter how understanding they are, there are bound to be some frictions. And I don't want to be reason for discord among your… friends."

"Slytherins are best as friends, Evans," Riddle said. Harry could hear the threat not only in the wordings but also in his tone.

"We both know how much friendship counts in slytherin, Riddle. Now if you'll excuse me."

"Not many are offered this chance, Evans. Especially one from Gryffindor. You will find that it is in your best interest to accept this extended hand of friendship. But no matter. I'm willing to wait. I'm sure that you'll make the right decision over the coming weeks."

Harry nodded and walked away, his magic snarling beneath his skin. Why did he feel like he had just handed in even deeper trouble?

* * *

** A/N: Hello, everyone. Sorry for such a late update. Got caught up in lots of stuffs. And sorry for the delay in reviews reply. I'll do that as soon as I can. **

**And thank you for the reviews, favs and follows. Over 100 favs and 200 follows. Nice. :D Anyway, we finally saw Lestrange's revenge. And yes, Riddle is getting more involved, as I promised. He's going to be heavily "invested" in Harry from now on. So what do you think? Please review. It makes me happy. :D**


	8. Chapter 7

**Dance of Kings  
****By Iesh**

* * *

**Summary:** AU. A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year in 1943 and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun.

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

* * *

"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- dreams/written words…

* * *

**Chapter 7**

After the meeting with Riddle in the library, Harry spent the whole weekend looking over his shoulders. He advised his friends to be more vigilant than ever. It was true testament to Riddle's reputation that they quietly accepted his words when he told them about the meeting.

But strangely, nothing happened during the weekend. With quiet relief, Harry went through his lessons on Monday. Riddle remained courteous and mostly ignored him as if the meeting on Saturday had never happened.

"And now, before you all leave, please leave your essay on the table. Like I said last time, you will be marked on it," Professor Dumbledore said, ending the class.

Harry made to grab his essay from his bag only to find nothing. He frowned as he searched through his bag but could find no part of his essay whatsoever. Yet he clearly recalled placing it in.

"Evans?" Professor Dumbledore asked as he noticed Harry frantically searching through his bag.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's just that I can't find my essay. I did complete it and I had it with me."

"Don't worry, it happens," Professor Dumbledore said with a small smile. "You surely misplaced it. Just rewrite it and bring it to me by tomorrow's lunch."

But it didn't end here itself. The same thing repeated in Arithmancy. Except this time, Professor Chang wasn't as understanding as Professor Dumbledore. He lost ten points and was given a detention for Friday. Normally, it wasn't such a big deal but apparently, Professor Chang thought that he was going back to his "lazy" phase. And that he ought to be corrected before it set.

By the end of the day, Harry misplaced not only his essays but also library books, due to which he was banned from the library for one week! His alarm didn't sound during the morning but thankfully, Charlus woke him up before heading to class. He barely made it in time but had to miss breakfast.

Tuesday passed more or less same as Monday, to his utter dismay. He lost two more essays, including the one which he had completely redone for Transfiguration. He lost further thirty points and earned one more detention from Professor Dumbledore for Thursday.

But the worst came on Wednesday afternoon, in Ancient Runes.

"What is the meaning of this, Evans?" Professor Vera roared as he entered the class.

Harry frowned at the piece of paper in his hand. "I guess, my essay, Sir."

"Can you tell me how this relates to the the topic?"

Harry grabbed the paper and read it.

_Once, there was a young witch who travelled a far away land. She was young and in need of a companion. She went from house to house night to night._

_"Oh my knight in shining armour," she purred as she caressed the…_

Harry blushed as he rolled back the parchment.

"That's... that's not my essay, Sir."

"Is it not your name at the top?"

"Yes-"

"Is it not your handwriting?"

"Y- yes…"

"I don't care what frivolities you participate in your free time, Evans but you will submit the proper work in my lesson. That will be fifty points from Gryffindor and one week of detention starting from today."

Harry's eyes widened. One week of detention and two more… plus the Quidditch practice, a few of which he was sure to miss now. Merlin, Michael wasn't going to be happy.

In the end, Professor Dumbledore's and Professor Chang's detentions were postponed to the next week. By the end of the week, Harry could barely stand. He barely slept at night. His detentions were with Ogg who made him scrub the floor without any magic till midnight. By the time he returned, he had to do his homework which had doubled since he had yet to complete the essays which were lost. He slept barely two to three hours. The teachers no longer called on him. Even Professor Slughorn was avoiding him. He merely nodded at his potions before moving on.

* * *

Harry jumped through the stairs as he ran to his dorm. How could he forget the Quidditch practice? He had to be there in ten minutes. If Charlus hadn't warned him in time…

He opened the door and froze in his tracks. Riddle was in front of him, going through his things.

"Riddle? What are you doing here?" Harry asked as he stepped in. He didn't want to close the door but he felt like he shouldn't let anyone hear or doubt what was going to happen.

"I heard about your misadventures this week. Truly sorry for that," Riddle smiled though his tone didn't match his words.

"Okay, that doesn't answer my answer. This is the Gryffindor dorms."

"Oh, I was just… exploring. To keep a healthy interhouse relations. You have an interesting collection of potions journals, most which exceed the NEWT level. And your level of warding is impressive too."

Harry glared as he saw that his trunk was moved from its initial position but luckily unopened due to the number of wards he had set. Riddle had clearly went past the intruder ward though since he didn't seem in any kind of pain.

"What are you doing here? Your plans for out-casting me have been working pretty well."

"Hasn't it?" Riddle smiled. "I hate to take such unpleasant actions but now you know that only friends in proper position can help you out. And like I said, Slytherins can be very accommodating."

"I doubt that. I can take care of myself."

Riddle laughed. "Surely you don't think that this week's doing was the best of my capability. You see that was just laying the ground work. No one would go against the golden Gryffindor boy. But the lazy and waylaid Gryffindor boy who's just a rebel? Who would take him seriously when he starts pointing fingers?"

Harry remained silent. He knew that Riddle was slowing cutting through all the hardwork he had done to ingratiate the teachers and students to him.

"So that's why you are here? To get me in your fan club?"

"It's more of a gathering of influential people, guided by a capable leader."

"Unfortunately, I don't bend the knee or follow, Riddle. Never been the type."

"Hmm, I understand. You do seem to be the type to lead. In matters of week, you have rallied quite a number of these Gryffindors to your side. But I wonder…" Riddle's smile never left his face. Despite this being his own dorm, Harry felt strangely vulnerable. "I wonder how many would follow a murderer, especially one who had killed his own parents."

Of everything that Harry was expecting, it wasn't this one. His hands went slack and his bag fell to his feet.

"Where have you heard this?"

"It's amazing what one can find in the muggle word. I was just curious how come you didn't get your Hogwarts letter. I pulled some favours and made some investigations. And guess what I found. Harry Evans had been in the mental asylum from eight to twelve, after witnessing his parents' death. But then, isn't eight and seven when most children start their accidental magic? And for one as powerful as you… I couldn't help but connect the dot."

Harry stared at the boy in front of him - his carefully combed hair, his brown eyes glinting with malice, his soft elegant demeanor. But all he saw was the demon inside him. All he heard were his parents' screams.

"Get out," he said softly.

"Well, I guess I should move on then. But don't forget what I said. It is in your best interest to be on our side. For we don't treat our enemies very well."

"It has been duly noted, Riddle. And you shouldn't underestimate me. You don't know what one who has killed his own parents, like you said, is truly capable of."

Harry could barely reign his magic as it snarled to be out and kill. But he knew it wasn't time.

Riddle nodded to him and left the room. Harry immediately fell to his knees. He closed his eyes as he tried to fight the flooding memories.

When Charlus came half an hour later, he found Harry in his bed, staring at the wall.

"Harry, are you okay?" he asked as he sat next to him.

"I will be," he whispered. "But Riddle won't be. No he won't."

* * *

Harry excused himself to Michael for missing the Quidditch practice. The latter who had heard about the last week's happenings, simply nodded and told him to take the week off the practice since he was having trouble keeping up with all practices and his detentions at the same time.

Harry spent the rest of the weekend, completing his enormous pile of homework. His friends tried to help him by lending him their notes and references, since his had mysteriously disappeared along with his homework. He ended up carefully warding all his works and handing them to Maya for submitting since no one would suspect her to be turning in his work.

After his homework, he spent his whole time immersed in several Charms tomes. He refused all offers to go out or to go flying. He assiduously noted everything that would help him. He spent time in his dorm, practicing and perfecting several of the spells he had discovered, moving from with wand, to non-verbal and finally, wandless if he could.

On Sunday night, he sneaked out of the Gryffindor common room. He had told Charlus to run interference for him in case someone came looking for him. He cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself, along with the Silencing Charm as well as the Odour-Masking Charm. He walked along the dark corridors. He roamed through the different floors till he finally found him.

Riddle was making his Prefect rounds with the Hufflepuff prefect, Daisy George. He would make small talks with her, in his own usual fake charming way while the girl smiled at him. But every once on a while, his eyes would travel along the walls, the floor or even the ceiling. He would look longer than usual at the armours and the statues.

No one would normally notice it but walking a few steps behind with his focus on the boy, Harry couldn't help but conclude.

Riddle was looking for something. But what?

* * *

Harry spent the next day, laying low, his head set down, never answering any questions except when asked. His lack of sleep and fatigue could be seen in his slumped posture and frequently unfocused eyes. Some teachers, like Dumbledore and Slughorn ignored him. Others, like Chang, called on him, swiftly withdrawing points from Gryffindor.

His House in itself wasn't exactly happy with him. Most of them knew that it was the result of challenging the Slytherin House and understood him. They did go out of their way, shielding him from the looks and whispers of other students. But a few Gryffindors openly scowled at him for bringing their House back in the race for the House Cup.

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs often stared and whispered behind his back. He caught words like "ill-cursed", "shouldn't have messed", and "Slytherins" too many times. The House of Snake was undoubtedly the happiest by the new turn of events. They openly sneered at him and snickered when he came in late or missed his breakfast.

"Would you like to give another attempt to the Transfiguration, Mr. Evans?" Dumbledore said as he stopped at his and Charlus' desks.

"Evanesco," he said. His hand felt like rubber and he was too weak to control his magic properly.

He sighed as his iguana lost only its tail. He didn't dare force more of his magic through his wand at his weakened state. Merlin knew what would happen. He would have probably exploded the poor reptile.

"Keep practicing, Mr. Evans," he said, with a touch of kindness in his voice, before turning to the rest of the class. "Fourteen inches on the Vanishing Spell. Please give your essay before leaving."

Harry furrowed through his bag, looking for his copy of his essay, which as he had predicted, had simply disappeared. He shook his head as he remained seated at his place. He could feel Riddle's eyes on him and even if he couldn't see it, he knew there was that cursed smirk plastered on his face. Through the corner of his eyes, he saw Maya submitting his essay along with hers. Dumbledore frowned at the additional copy but nodded nonetheless at Maya's discreet glance towards Harry.

* * *

Harry frowned at he followed Riddle through the dark corridors of Hogwarts. The Slytherin Prefect had ditched his Hufflepuff partner a few minutes earlier. It had been the third night that the boy spent walking along the corridors of the second floor looking for something. He would inspect each armour, sometimes hitting them with murmured spells. Whatever the response he was expecting, he was clearly not getting it. His lips were thin in frustration and his steps more brisk and agitated than ever.

Harry wasn't faring much better. His body was screaming for sleep. He had spent the rest of the Monday night after his detention following Riddle, looking for tracking charms. He assiduously practiced each of them. With barely three hours of sleep the previous night and the one hour in History of Magic today, he was tired beyond hell. He discreetly threw a low level Tracking Charm on Riddle's cloak. He scowled as the spell was repelled away. He tried with several higher levels tracking charms but they all vanished the moment they touched the boy's clothes. He balled his fists in frustration. Riddle was probably paranoid enough to put anti-tracking charm on all his clothes. And placing one directly on his skin or using a higher level spell would gain the boy's attention

Harry groaned as he realized that he had to physically follow the boy. He dragged his feet behind the boy as the latter inspected inch by inch an isolated classroom.

* * *

"You will be scrubbing the whole floor, boy," Ogg said as he handed Harry the bucket of water and brush. "Here are your tools and remember, no magic."

Harry smiled pleasantly as he took the items from the janitor. He knew that any pureblood would have blanched at the prospect of doing such menial work and also without magic but he was used to such tasks. He had always preferred doing things with his own capabilities. It was a thought which was heavily encouraged by Master Flamel who scoffed at wizards who depended too much on House Elves and magic.

Harry spent the rest of the hour scrubbing the left wing of the third floor. His robe was hanging on the sill of a nearby window. The bottom part of his trouser was trussed up and so were his shirt's sleeves. He mechanically scrubbed the floor while his mind tried to come up with several theories for what Riddle was looking for. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he completely missed when the seventh-year Prefects had entered the left wing.

"My! What a pleasant sight!" It was Avery, the seventh-year Prefect, who was one of those in Riddle's court. "Why don't you check the other wing of the floor, Trout? I will be making sure that Evans here is doing his detention properly."

The Ravenclaw Prefect hesitated for a moment, no doubt thinking what the Slytherin was up to before he nodded and left, not before thowing an apologetic smile in Harry's direction.

"It's good that mudbloods are finally learning their place in the Wizarding World," Avery said while Harry kept on scrubbing the floor.

"Yeah, we are pretty good at ruling," the Gryffindor said nonchalantly as he rose from his corner.

"Still full of yourself?" Avery smirked. "I like that. I'm sure that it won't be case when he'll be done with you."

Harry smiled. "Yes, why don't you all hide behind your half-blood King? It does show the pureblood's true place."

"You..." The Slytherin literally shook in fury. "His blood is that of the mightiest, the purest."

"Along with that of a lowly muggle," Harry rolled his eyes. "Told you that we of muds are pretty good at ruling."

Avery grabbed him by his collars and held him against the wall. "I can see what you're doing. It won't work."

"Avery!"

Harry hid his smile, and brought back his lost innocent Gryffindor look as Professor Dumbledore came closer. "Can I ask what you are doing, Avery? Manhandling one of the students?"

"He was badmouthing my Lo- my friend." Avery said, having taken a few steps back and a few breaths to calm himself.

"So you admit that you were the one who got physical first. That will be twenty points from Slytherin… for now. And next time, it will your prefectship."

Avery nodded as he left but not before throwing a scathing glance at the two Gryffindors. Harry smiled as he went back to his scrubbing. Avery might have seen what he was doing (which he didn't really care about for since he rarely bothered with true subtlety) but the seed had been planted. It wouldn't throw Riddle out of the throne but might cause some discords… which perfectly suited his plans.

* * *

Harry gulped the pepper-up potion. Riddle was ahead running his hand along with the walls. They had covered most of the second floor – the corridors, the classrooms, the armours, the paintings and even the windows. All that was left was an odd sculpture and the toilets.

Harry leaned against the wall as he watched Riddle send spells all over the sculpture. He wondered if this was all a dud. It had been almost a week since he had been following the boy. But then, it was Riddle he was talking about.

He watched as Riddle kicked the old hunched man sculpture in frustration and opened the girl's toilet. Harry surreptitiously walked in before the door was firmly closed. The Slytherin walked all over the cubicles and then started inspecting the sinks.

Harry froze as Riddle's body posture suddenly changed from sheer frustration to alertness. He drifted as close as he could and saw what Riddle was looking at. There was a small snake scribbled on of the taps.

§Open to the heir of the mightiest!§ Riddle hissed.

Parseltongue. Harry chuckled as amusement bubbled in his stomach. He couldn't believe it. Tom Riddle was a parselmouth! But his surprise knew no bound as the sink withdrew from the wall and disappeared in, revealing a secret passage.

Riddle warily ran his hand all over the wall and shot a few spells inside the opening. No response came. Harry smirked as the boy looked at the passage warily, despite his glee at having found it. Slytherin indeed for not charging into the unseen.

§Close§ Riddle hissed before leaving the restroom.

Harry slid to the floor as he realized what Riddle had found. He laughed and laughed till tears came in his eyes as he sat in front of the fabled secret of Slytherin, the fabled Chamber of Secrets.

* * *

**A/N: So here's Chapter 7! I would love to know what you think about it. There are some important tidbits which appear in this part - Harry's parents' death and... Parseltongue. And yes, Harry perfectly understood the snake language. :P Both of these are rather important to the main plot (which I will be unraveling slowly) Like I said, I would love to know what you think about this and any theories/comments that you can provide. **

**On another note, I had planned for this story to be written from only Harry's POV. I never wrote Multiple POVs in one story before. But I got a few reviews requesting for other POVs. To be frank, it sounds interesting. It would be a great outlet to explore other characters and have other views/outlook on what's happening. It can be a nice opportunity to see what happens in the Snake Den. But on the other side, I wonder if it will compromise with the story's flow. Anyway, I wanted to see what you guys (and gals) think about this? Any advice or preference? Or even any request for a certain character's POV?**

**Enough rambling now. Thank you for reading. (and a huge thank you to all the guests who reviewed and to whom I can't reply). Please review! I'll give you a chocolate cookie. :D**


	9. Chapter 8

**Dance of Kings  
****By Iesh**

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**Summary:** AU. A secretive Harry Evans joins Tom Riddle's fifth year in 1943 and nothing remains the same. Rules and traditions get trodden upon; secrets are spun in lies and truths; love and hatred are twisted together. Beware Hogwarts! For the Dance of Kings has begun.

**Pairings:** Harry/Tom, Charlus/Dorea.

**Tags:** NOT TimeTravel!, Light!Harry, Dark!Tom, Slash &amp; Het relations

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter World &amp; Characters belong to the talented JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them.

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"…" - Conversations/Talking

'…' - Thinking/Thoughts

§…§ - Parseltongue

_Italics_ \- dreams/written words…

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**Chapter 8**

Harry sneered as he gazed at the huge sculptures of serpents looming over him. Let it never be said that Salazar Slytherin wasn't fond of his snakes. But then glancing at the statue of the stern-looking man, he thought that maybe it was only snakes who could bear the Founder's presence. He had long finished his detention with Professor Dumbledore. The day had been exhausting but he couldn't help but bask in satisfaction of having found the Chamber of Secrets. He had read many stories about the fabled Chamber as well as the monster inside.

He turned as he heard steps entering the chamber. He watched as Riddle stood in front of the statue, the excitation clearly reflecting on his normally stoic face. It wasn't the glee of having mastered a spell or having answered a Professor's question correctly. It was fiercer, more vicious; it was that of the true man hiding inside the boy.

Harry smiled as he cancelled the Disillusionment Spell and emerged from the shadows.

"Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets, Riddle."

He couldn't help laughing as he looked at Riddle's face. The sheer shock was obvious from the wide eyes and agape mouth. He guessed that for the first time, Riddle had truly lost his tongue.

"Wondering what I'm doing here? How? Why? When?" Harry chuckled as he circled the boy. "Irrelevant questions, if you ask me. The important thing is that I'm here."

"I'm the Heir of Slytherin."

"Are you?" Harry hissed in Parseltongue.

Riddle's face blanched.

"I told you to never underestimate me," Harry said with his usual Gryffindor grin, running his hand through his red locks. "You know that I'm not what I seem to be. Yet you made the same mistake as Lestrange."

"Frankly, I was merely annoyed at the play you pulled with the essays and the act with the teachers. It was exhausting but still trifling. It wouldn't have warranted such a big response. But you dared go behind my back and rummage through my past. You dared bring my dead parents in this mere school game. You dared use my painful past against me for your gain. No Riddle, I can't give someone so much power over me. Especially someone like you. So here we are.'

"Isn't this your pride, Riddle? Your ancestry? I mean the Slytherin side, of course, and not the muggle one," Harry laughed as Riddle bristled. "This gave you your Parseltongue ability which made your King of Slytherin today and allowed you to rule over the purebloods. And here I am taking it all away from you."

"I have to say that you were right, though. Slytherins do make great friends. Have you met my new friend? Sibilisss?"

An amorphous shape slithered out of the dark corners. A huge green-scaled tail flickered in view. Riddle gaped in horror as the fifty-feet tall Basilisk emerged from the shadows. He immediately dropped his gaze to the ground with the snake circling the two boys.

"Sibiliss," Harry hissed. "Remember I told you about the other speaker who tried to harm me and who was a traitor to our cause?"

""Yess….. Is it him? Can I eat him?"

Harry laughed. "Not now. But his friends have been very unruly too. They reside in the dungeons. They accused me, ill-treated me and humiliated me in front of the whole school."

"How dare they..." The Basilisk hissed in rage. "I will kill them, rip them,…"

Riddle trembled as the Basilisk's body brushed against him.

"You must have guessed what I'm talking about, Riddle," Harry smiled innocently. "Imagine the fabled monster of Slytherin set against the heirs of pureblood families. Oh my… What a scandal? How will they react when their own blood, their kins and heirs are found dead? How long will Slytherin hold sway among the purebloods? And how long will his heir rule among the Slytherins?"

Riddle was openly shivering by now - maybe in fear or maybe because Sibiliss was pressed against him and her fangs were barely an inch from his exposed neck."

"You'll find that I'm best left alone, Riddle. You have your Slytherins, and I the Gryffindors. One more attack against me and all you have strived for will crumble faster than you can say King. And oh yes, you'll not only stop but also right the wrong you have done these past days. Don't care how but you will… Now, shoo!"

Harry called Sibiliss to him as Riddle walked out of the Chamber of Secrets. He smiled at the pale skin and the fists balled by the Slytherin's sides.

"Is everything okay, my heir?" Sibiliss hissed as she grazed against Harry.

"Yes," he grimaced as he took a few steps back. He knew that he had no choice but he was taking the whole Gryffindor stupidity to a whole new level - playing mind games with the Heir of Slytherin and his monster in the snake's lair. It was a miracle that it hadn't blown in his face. But he knew that it was only a matter of time…

* * *

Probably feeling rather threatened, Riddle didn't waste time righting the wrongs he had done. Harry found himself in the Headmaster's office the very next morning.

"What is it about, Professor?" He asked Professor Dumbledore as he took in his seat. They were accompanied by Riddle, Professor Slughorn and a Sixth Year Slytherin he had seen in the corridors.

"Nasty business, nasty business," the frail Headmaster whizzed. "Riddle had caught Belby with the copies of your essays. When faced with questions, he admitted that he had been sabotaging your works the last two weeks. "

"He had taken the house rivalry a bit too far," Professor Slughorn said with a pinched face. He was probably far more worried about Harry having a grudge against the Professor and his House than the whole losing essays and points affair.

"Oh," Harry frowned as he bit his lips, though he inwardly sneered. Trust Riddle to find a way that showed him as the good guy. Caught Belby indeed. More like threatened him with death till the boy had no choice but to nod along. Maybe he should have told Riddle to be sincere but then, he didn't believe in miracles.

"We are very sorry about this matter, Evans," Professor Dumbledore said with a sombre face. "We should have known that you were being bullied by your schoolmate. You told us the truth and we brushed you off."

"And we assure you that this won't be happening again. Whether it's you or another student," Professor Slughorn added rapidly as he fidgeted in his seat.

"It's okay, Professor. Mistakes happen," Harry smiled feebly. "But I must say that it wasn't… easy. I mean, I may be in my Fifth Year but people forget that I'm still new to Hogwarts. I understand that people don't know me well but this… I found myself ostracised, shunned and labelled as a rebel, the stupid Gryffindor…"

Harry stared at his lap as his voice reduced to a mere whisper. He was well aware of everyone's eyes on him.

"You are as much a Gryffindor as everyone else, Harry. Don't ever doubt that. We'll try to remedy what we can. It's sad that you've already served all those detentions. And as for the points, it's unfortunately against the school system to re-award lost points," Professor Dumbledore said

"But I'm sure an exception can be made. This wasn't mere house rivalry. It was bullying. We can't do anything to further ostracise Harry from his housemates," Professor Slughorn added. Professor Dumbledore said nothing but looked at the Headmaster who sighed.

"While what Albus said was right, I agree with Horace. All the points lost by this mistake will be re-awarded to Gryffindor."

"Thank you, Sir," Harry smiled though it was wiped immediately, "Oh, Professors, please tell me that you haven't told Master Flamel about this. If he learns that I failed to keep my grade, he'll pull me out!"

"Harry, we need to inform him. I'm sure he'll understand…"

"No," Harry said as tears fell down his cheeks, "Please, it's not that he won't understand or that he's very strict. In fact, he has been the only one here for me when no one was. And I know he has high expectations from me even though he never said anything of the sort to me. If he learns that I failed, even if it was someone's fault... Or worst, if he thinks that I'm not fitting in! At least, wait a week before sending the missive. Yes, a week will be enough. I won't sleep, I won't eat. I swear I will pull all my grades up to my best. I'll re-do my work and re-read everything on my own. Please, Sir!"

Harry was almost hysterical by this point while his eyes pleaded at the teachers in front of him.

"Harry, you will certainly not miss any sleep or meal," Professor Dumbledore said sternly, "I.. I will push the missive by one week."

"And we can get someone to bring you back to the workload. Maybe Riddle here! He's up to your level and you have been rather friendly with him." Harry wondered when he had been friendly with Riddle but he wasn't about to burst Professor Slughorn's bubble. Not when he said exactly what Harry was waiting for.

"I don't know if that' s a good idea. Slytherins aren't very friendly with Harry," Dumbledore said. "Maybe one of the gryffindors? Or even, someone from Ravenclaw?"

"I think having a Slytherin help Harry would highlight the point that Harry can be friend with any students." Professor Slughorn said. "Maybe the others will follow."

"I think I agree with Professor Slughorn," Harry smiled at the professor who immediately beamed. "But won't that interfere with Riddle's Prefect duties? If for one week…." Harry trailed off.

He bit his lips to keep the smirk off as Riddle's eyes grew in horror. "I..I think," the Prefect said quickly, "that I can perfectly manage tutoring Harry while keeping my Prefect status. I'm already ahead in my studies. So it should be fine."

"Marvellous then!" Professor Slughorn said though Professor Dumbldore frowned, no doubt worried about Harry.

"Now, about the punishment, young man," Headmaster Dippet said as he turned to the Sixth Year Slytherin who looked utterly lost among everything. "I think two weeks of detention and one hundred points from Slytherin are due."

"Sir," Harry said timidly. "We have already undone most of the wrongs done in the past weeks. So many, a lesser punishment? Maybe just one week? I… I know how it feels like. Even if I don't know him, I wouldn't like him to waste much time in detentions, especially in his Sixth Year."

The teachers beamed as Harry looked at his lap, his face flushed. He knew that if Riddle could, he would be gagging by now at how far he was pulling all this.

"You're indeed a fine young man, Evans," Headmaster Dippet smiled at him. "Since you were the one wronged and you insist, it will be just one week."

Harry grinned as he followed Riddle and Belby out of the headmaster's office.

"So how did you find my acting skills, Riddle?" Harry taunted, staring at Riddle. "After all, I was being pitted against one of the best."

"Any more excessive, I would have hurled, Evans," Riddle hissed as his eyes narrowed, no doubt angry.

"It must be the Slytherin in me," Harry smirked and he walked away. He could feel Riddle's furious gaze and Belby's confused look on his back.

* * *

Harry spent most of the weekend sleeping. His body had been protesting from the lack of sleep and was now on the brink of exhaustion. Despite the sleep, he still looked rather pale and weak. But luckily and to his friends' immense relief, he had stopped living off Pepper-Up Potion.

His friends who had seen him slaving off during the past two weeks, indulged him. They barely left his side and kept him company even when he was holed in the common room. They brought him his meals if he felt too weak to go to the Great Hall.

"Professor Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn had been asking about you," Charlus said as he sat next to Harry after coming from the kitchen. "They were thinking you were back to hoarding the books and have been skipping meals and sleep."

"Oh," Harry frowned. "What did you tell them?"

"That we were forcing you to play nice," Charlus grinned, "Professor Dumbledore awarded us five points for helping a friend in need."

Harry rolled his eyes. His Head of House was certainly very gracious with his Gryffndor students. The day wasn't far when he would award them points just for merely existing and bringing merry to his life.

"The professors weren't the only ones asking about you," Theodore said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs heard what happened at the headmasters' office. They're pretty angry at the Slytherins."

"Especially the girls," Charlus grinned while Harry grimaced. "Oh, don't pull that face. You should have seen how Brown was. 'Oh poor Harry! He had to put up with those vile Slytherins' bullying. And he's just a new transfer student. You should tell him that Hufflepuffs aren't like that. Maybe we should invite him to the Hufflepuff's common room.'" Charlus imitated the girl's high-pitched voice before continuing, "And believe me, it wasn't just the Hufflepuff's common room she wanted to invite you in. If you know what I mean."

Theodore was not-so-quietly snickering in his book while Harry's eyes widened in horror. "You.. I..: Shut up, Charlus, And you too, Ted."

"It's Theodore!"

"So Harry, are we going to accompany you to Hufflepuff's common room?" Charlus wriggled his eyebrows. " Brown's friend.. what's her name? Hector? Yeah, Gina Hector. She's a fine looking girl, if you ask me."

"You think all girls are fine, Charlus," Harry said deadpanned.

"Even Flint," Theodore grimaced, "And she's half troll."

"Hey, she has a strong set of… shoulders. It's attractive...when you squint," Charlus grumbled.

"Yeah, right," Theodore said before returning to his book. Harry smiled while grabbing the treacle tart that Charlus had brought for him.

* * *

Sunday night was Harry's first tutorial with Riddle. Following a note delivered by a nervous First Year Ravenclaw, he went to the Library. They had received permission from the headmaster to use the Library for their tutoring this week.

"Hello, Riddle," Harry smiled, taking the seat opposite the boy.

"Hello, Evans," the Slytherin said curtly. Harry cocked his head as he tried to decipher what the other was feeling. Anger? Frustration? Fatigue? Or maybe joy in some sort of odd perverted Slytherin way? He found nothing, to his immense displeasure.

"Shall we start?" Riddle said "I was thinking of starting with Transfiguration since it's the one with most of work and the one where you need most work."

"Yes, that'll be good," Harry nodded.

"Fine. We were working on the Vanishing spell. Professor Dumbledore had already been through the theory. So here's the notes I've taken in class. You can keep it. It's an additional copy." Harry took the handouts. He leafed though the parchments and raised his eyebrows. They were very detailed. Every word said by Professor Dumbledore was written, including comments by the professor when correcting someone else's work.

"This is… very intensive," Harry said impressed.

"Thank you. Why don't you try the vanishing spell and I'll identify where you have problems with the spell."

"Actually, I know where I'm lacking," Harry said. "Margot said that the basis of Vanishing spell lies in the Animulus Transformia spell for they share the same base matrix. I was wondering if my trouble doesn't stem from there. I never mastered the spell."

"It;'s a First Year spell!"

"Is it?" Harry said in mock surprise. "How dumb of me. My master never showed me that spell. No time like now to correct, huh?" Harry pulled a button from his bag and placed it on the table. "If you could just show me."

Riddle scowled as he carefully and precisely performed the spell, transforming the button in a beetle. Harry pulled his own wand and gave a half-willed wave with his wand.

"Not like this," Riddle hissed. "It's not a swish. It's a sharp turn and a jab at the end."

Harry messed up his next trial and the ten after that one. But by then, his incantations were kinda slurred.

"You aren't pronouncing properly, Evans," Riddle said, the anger and frustration clear in his voice.

"I'm sorry," Harry yawned. "It's just that all the sabotage from Slytherins has messed up my sleep pattern."

Riddle obviously didn't buy one word of what he had said and was barely able to keep his calm. After one hour of scowls, taunts and snaps, they came to a close.

"Maybe you should just read about the spell and try it tomorrow. If you can't perform it, we'll talk about it with Professor Dumbledore."

"That won't be necessary. I have a proper grasp on the spell now. I think I'm able to attempt the Vanishing Spell now," Harry wordlessly vanished the iguana that Riddle had conjured earlier. "See, it worked."

"You had already mastered the spell and you purposefully had me waste my time on a First Year spell." Riddle's eyes narrowed.

"Just like you had me waste my time scrubbing floors, Riddle," Harry smiled. "And you should watch your words with me. I might take offence. You never know what your friends may lay their eyes on…"

With that, he grabbed his bag and walked out of the library. As he laid down on his bed, he smiled knowing that Riddle was still in the middle of his Prefect rounds. Being busy while the Fifth Year Prefects were making rounds, he had to swap with a Seventh Year who was the last one to make rounds after curfew - from ten to eleven.

o

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The next day, Harry noticed a noticeable change in the teachers' attitude. They apologised in their own way, sometimes by calling on him to answer question and awarding points, smiling at him or commending him on a well written work. Some teachers, like Professor Chang and Flitwick, asked him to stay after and asked him how he was faring and assured him that he could approach them for any matter that troubled him.

The students also noticed these changes and those who didn't know about what had happened in the headmaster's office, knew about it by lunch. In the corridors, Harry passed by soft whispers about him ("Good ones," Maya assured him) as well as some giggling girls who stared at him (to his immense horror).

The Gryffindors too went out of their way to help him. Some Seventh Years offered to help him catch up. He refused but thanked them sincerely. Some openly apologised him for shunning him for something that a Slytherin had done. All in all, Harry was pretty content.

Of course, the Slytherin House wasn't very happy. They were not only being shunned by the other three Houses but had also lost hundred points, bringing them in last position while Gryffindor had amassed one hundred and twenty points (which Harry had lost in the previous two weeks), putting them first in the race.

As the week progressed, Harry noticed subtle changes in Riddle. He still looked as charming and immaculate as ever, but he was pretty sure that glamours were covering black circles under his eyes. He rarely answered in classes. His spellwork were good but not up to par to his usual quality of work. Teachers sent him soft looks, from time to time though, no doubt aware of how he selflessly offered himself to help the poor Gryffindor.

But Riddle wasn't the only one changing in the Slytherin house. On Tuesday morning, Harry saw some hostile glances towards their King. Was it the recent event? They surely knew that he was the one behind Harry's two weeks of misery. Now they had lost hundred points because of this. And he had placed the blame on another Slytherin's head. Or was it the seed that Harry had planted in Avery's head? Had they realised that he wasn't able to take care of a simple mudblood? Hmm. The King definitely had his work cut out for him.

"This will be the last tutorial," Riddle said as soon as Harry sat in front of him in the library. "I've talked to Professor Slughorn and Professor Dumbledore. You seem to have well caught up to the level of work. We'll be going through Potions today. Any particular problem you're having, Potions prodigy?" he sneered at the end, no doubt expecting Harry to bring up the most basic knowledge as he had done the last few days.

"Not really." Harry said, staring at the boy in front of him. Both stared at each other, quietly assessing the other. The Gryffindor sighed and finally said, "Your… friends are getting restless."

Riddle nodded. "I know."

"You're planning something."

"I won't be telling you now, would I?"

"No, you won't."

Harry stared at the cold brown eyes. He calmed his magic as it sprang in action. To harm or to protect, he had no idea. He wondered if even his magic knew. Did he really view Riddle as a enemy? He cocked his head as he stared at the boy. Sure, he was a prat - cold, cruel and utterly vicious. Slytherin in all the sense of the word. Fitting since he was the Heir of Slytherin. But did he hate him? Did he really want him to be broken and thrown at the end of the Slytherin circle?

He didn't know.

"Go and rest yourself, Riddle," Harry said as he put his books back in his bag. "Or else, they would eat you alive."

"What the hell are you doing?" For the first time, he could hear something genuine in the boy's voice. Anger, confusion and was that fear?

Harry laughed, pulling the bag on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Riddle. I'm not done with you yet. And I want to defeat the Slytherin King, not a pathetic outcast."

Nodding to the still silent boy, Harry walked out, wondering if he had just committed his worst or best move.

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**A/N: Elo, everyone! This is probably the longest chapter till date. Hope that you liked it and that it wasn't too complicated. How did you find the confrontation between Harry and Tom in the Chamber of Secrets? It's one of my favourite scenes. Hope that I didn't mess it. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, fav's and followed the story. So, please review! If you don't, Harry will be attacked by rapid Hufflepuff fan-girls! *gasp***


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